Many people out there treat them badly.
Many people viciously murdering them.
It's a waste, you know,
'Cause they love you no matter what
No matter what you wear,
No matter the amount of money in your pocket,
No matter how beautiful you are,
No matter if you have any neurological disorders,
You could be the poorest and most hopeless person in the world and they will still love you.
These beings are animals,
God's gift to this selfish, messed up world.
You know about those poor puppies thrown in dumpsters?
Abused by those ignorant, sick and twisted people that don't have a word to describe how awful they are!
(You know who y
Love
It isn't the size of her breasts
Nor is it the way you dress
Love isn't your wealth
Or popularity
Love isn't the jerk
Love isn't sex
Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is when you'll be there for him
Love is when you'll stay by his side
Love is when you'll spend eternity with him
Love is when you'll die for him
Love is to love
Prologue
I ran passed her and stared at the backyard. I could have been there to save you. I thought. I could have scared them off. You could still be around. But there are no "I could haves." Because he's gone and there's nothing I can do to change it.
I stood in front of my rusty gate, staring at my battered tennis shoes. Usually I wouldn't hesitate to open the gate, but today was different.
The living room, a black TV screen, made no sound. My eyes, as blind as a bat, could not make out the furniture. The air, ensnaring me in an icy grip, made me shiver. Then a voice, barely audible to hear, broke the silence.
"I'll check the corp
Where I'm From
I am from piggyback rides
And the fluffy stuffed animals that covered my bedroom floor.
I am from the messy sandcastles and slippery slides at Mason Park, Where I jumped from rock to rock.
I'm from that distasteful lake odor,
Where I tossed small pieces of bread into the water for the birds to eat.
I'm from the young, soft tabby cat
That once sat in my warm lap.
I am from the artistic hands,
That were passed down to me from my Great Grandpa Frank.
I'm from the completed books that I tossed in my opposite direction.
I am from the woody, aging trees
Whose branches I used to hang on.
I'm from the screaming,
The horri
Your name is Rooba Boot
Congratulations! You had the honor of being a District 8 tribute in the 18th Hunger Games!
You were killed by slipping on a banana peel.
Many people out there treat them badly.
Many people viciously murdering them.
It's a waste, you know,
'Cause they love you no matter what
No matter what you wear,
No matter the amount of money in your pocket,
No matter how beautiful you are,
No matter if you have any neurological disorders,
You could be the poorest and most hopeless person in the world and they will still love you.
These beings are animals,
God's gift to this selfish, messed up world.
You know about those poor puppies thrown in dumpsters?
Abused by those ignorant, sick and twisted people that don't have a word to describe how awful they are!
(You know who y
Love
It isn't the size of her breasts
Nor is it the way you dress
Love isn't your wealth
Or popularity
Love isn't the jerk
Love isn't sex
Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is when you'll be there for him
Love is when you'll stay by his side
Love is when you'll spend eternity with him
Love is when you'll die for him
Love is to love
Prologue
I ran passed her and stared at the backyard. I could have been there to save you. I thought. I could have scared them off. You could still be around. But there are no "I could haves." Because he's gone and there's nothing I can do to change it.
I stood in front of my rusty gate, staring at my battered tennis shoes. Usually I wouldn't hesitate to open the gate, but today was different.
The living room, a black TV screen, made no sound. My eyes, as blind as a bat, could not make out the furniture. The air, ensnaring me in an icy grip, made me shiver. Then a voice, barely audible to hear, broke the silence.
"I'll check the corp
Where I'm From
I am from piggyback rides
And the fluffy stuffed animals that covered my bedroom floor.
I am from the messy sandcastles and slippery slides at Mason Park, Where I jumped from rock to rock.
I'm from that distasteful lake odor,
Where I tossed small pieces of bread into the water for the birds to eat.
I'm from the young, soft tabby cat
That once sat in my warm lap.
I am from the artistic hands,
That were passed down to me from my Great Grandpa Frank.
I'm from the completed books that I tossed in my opposite direction.
I am from the woody, aging trees
Whose branches I used to hang on.
I'm from the screaming,
The horri