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The Morning Light is Not as Warm as You

Morning Of Green Leaves

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I have followed the same steps since I was young, fearing that my parents would not love me, so that I could become better and more mature and stable. Later, they seemed to forget that I was only a seventeen-year-old girl who also needed to be loved. They only had a younger sister in their eyes and hearts. Your appearance is my morning light. I have not been loved since I was a child. Being loved is a luxury for me, but you gave me the love I lacked in my youth. You are the only light in my cold winter. Even if I am bruised and bruised, I am willing to