Ace Of Black Hearts
Once upon a time there was a bunch of crowded streets.
Hustling and bustling, so busy.
Everyone so happy.
Except for this single child.
He walked with a limp, but it wasn't natural.
More of a pain upon the mind.
He was the child who would get into constant fights.
He would always lose, but still he wouldn't throw a punch.
Still he stood up for others.
Protection in self sacrifice.
A harden quality.
I won't employ harm, but I won't allow it either.
That was what he said to himself.
I have nothing to prove.
I owe no one an explanation for the black eyes or bruises.
Because it was my choice to take them.
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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