Baskadia

Sometimes I get jealous of other people having beautiful eyes, blue, green and grey are perfectly fine like people describe in my favorite books and mine is like a coal in a mine, not that coal who turns into diamonds but a coal who meant to be burned

I wish I can be perfect too

A man with dignity and fight for honor

And here is me, a potato in steak, no taste at all just existing cause someone put me here

Golden hair with perfect shape lips

A picture perfect, a carbon copy of the heavenly ones

And I'm sure I looked like the devil that everybody loathe