Who Killed the Little Boy?

It was not long ago that I was a little boy, but I longed to grow up and be a man. Life was good but I had to dream of making it better. There were no worries and I had to think of ways of bringing them to me. There were no responsibilities and I had to go get them. There were no struggles and I had to go out and find them. There were dreams of being a man and I had to go and kill the child that dreamt them all.
If I knew this is what growing up meant I would have never looked forward to this. If I had known that I am not going to be ME when I am a man, I would have lived life differently. I used to be a happy kid, always cheerful and bright, I used to be alone dint make too many friends but my books and my songs. I used to live the life of a saint, no lies, no deceit, no malice, just love and care for everyone. But who was I fooling the killer was always lurking around the corner, always watching, smirking at my silly ways, planning how to kill me, just waiting for time to bring me to him.
I woke up one day and I knew I was in love, I kept thinking of her and I sought her presence, one day I was told that she is someoone else's darling. It broke my heart, the tiny little heart that knew no malice started hating the world. This was just an injury I did not die, I learned to cope with my emotions. One day my best friend cheated me to win in a game and I hit him hard in the face, but I did not die then I just learned to live with my fists. One day I saw my friends pen, I liked it and I took, I did not die then I just learned to steal. One day I was told that my aunt had died, I cried and I hid myself, but I did not die then, I just learned to live with death. One day I broke mom's fav vase, I did not die then, I just learned to lie. One day I liked my friends GF and I took her from him, I did not die then, I just learned deceit. One day dad told me I have to work hard and become a man, I did not die then, I just learned to earn. One day uncle died and I did not cry, I did not die then, I learned to bear pain. One day my love went away and I smiled, I did not die then, I learned to forget.
I am sure some one killed me, I am sure I am dead, I am sure I did exist but I dont remember when. If this is the man I was to become if this is the life I was supposed to live, then why was I born an innocent child, why was I killed?
One day I am going to find that brute who has killed me and one day I am going to live that life of innocence again, one day I am going to cry when someone dies, one day I am going to be sorry for what I have done.
One day I will be sorry for KILLING ME

(Source: Internet)