You were born only knowing all the beautiful things the world can offer. Pure and never tainted. They brought you up like a clean canvas that was never meant to be painted on. You live treading lilies and white roses, a flowery path devoid of pain, devoid of sadness. You grow up believing that the world is beautiful and nothing more. Young and naïve, you indulge in that kind of innocence that you never know was toxic to others. To others who, before they can even understand complex things, had known the cruelness of the world the moment they had born. However, these people the world had condemn to, know more love than anyone else. For love is always accompanied by pain and that pain is always resulted from love, thus they know better. So despite of the naivety almost akin to foolishness you had, they embrace you carefully, not wanting you to be stained by the blackness of their being. They wanted you to remain pure, a remnant of something they yearned to be. Something that will remind them that the world might be cruel, but it is still beautiful.