my poem *Who I Was* Let me tell you about myself. I was not loved by many back then. I moved through rooms with a quiet presence, keeping my heart cold, afraid of what they would say. I was disliked by my own family, and grew up under pressure I did not choose. Motherless and fatherless, I was raised by the walls of an orphanage instead of a home. Each day was a lesson in surviving, in holding myself together when no one else would. I learned early that silence was safer than asking, that distance was armor against disappointment. But even in that cold, something unexpected happened. I was helped by people I never thought could help. Strangers became shelter. Kindness arrived without reason. Their hands reached where family would not. So this is my appreciation: To those who saw me when I felt invisible, who gave me more than charity, who gave me a chance, thank you for proving that care can come from anywhere. You taught me that even a child with no name to call his own could still be worthy of being held. I am not that boy anymore. But I carry him with respect. He endured. He waited. He became. And here is the truth I give him now: The pressure did not break you. It built you. The cold taught you how to find your own warmth. The absence taught you how to stand on your own ground. You are not defined by who left you, but by who you chose to become. Keep walking. The same strength that carried you through orphanage halls is still carrying you today. You are proof that a beginning without love can still end in a life full of purposes
