It started out as just a lemonade stand. I never saw that this world was cruel and hateful. Just standing as the sideline, without knowing of what I could do. I can live or my love can leave this world. What brought me here?
This world we just need money. For food, for water, for furniture, for everything. Sometimes I just wish to own it all, everything. I live in a two room apartment with my father. Living in constant fear of being homeless. While those get, we have to savage and earn our way into life. Kids got their GameCube and Xbox, while I just have a Gameboy Advance that was pre-order with 5 cheap games. That’s what I only got for Christmas. While I was eating scrapes, others had a feast with leftovers for two days. All I yearned for is everything. …show more content…
To go to the amusement park, no. The soccer game, replied no. A trip to the mall arcade, no! I ask for dad for more money but all I receive is just 50 cents a chore. I can’t raise it, so that’s all I get. My father said, “Just sell something”! However, there was so little I could do.
I took a first step, selling and trading baseball cards. My father allowed me to use his portable table. Then I started, selling them for only 75 cents train station. Sitting there cold and helpless, waiting for the next person to just buy! Two weeks pasted, all the cards were bought but still empty. Only 15 dollars were raised, I still felt
This world we just need money. For food, for water, for furniture, for everything. Sometimes I just wish to own it all, everything. I live in a two room apartment with my father. Living in constant fear of being homeless. While those get, we have to savage and earn our way into life. Kids got their GameCube and Xbox, while I just have a Gameboy Advance that was pre-order with 5 cheap games. That’s what I only got for Christmas. While I was eating scrapes, others had a feast with leftovers for two days. All I yearned for is everything. …show more content…
To go to the amusement park, no. The soccer game, replied no. A trip to the mall arcade, no! I ask for dad for more money but all I receive is just 50 cents a chore. I can’t raise it, so that’s all I get. My father said, “Just sell something”! However, there was so little I could do.
I took a first step, selling and trading baseball cards. My father allowed me to use his portable table. Then I started, selling them for only 75 cents train station. Sitting there cold and helpless, waiting for the next person to just buy! Two weeks pasted, all the cards were bought but still empty. Only 15 dollars were raised, I still felt