My life as an Orc

They call me green skin and punch me in the nose "Green skin! Green skin!" they all chant at me as I fall too the ground blood seeping into the mud below me. The cold embrace of rain pelting against my skin wakes me I feel dead inside why was I born a orc? My mind wanders off as everything fades. The doctors say my chromosomes and that I will never think like a pink skin I hear a plate shattering as the last drop of rain pelts me eyes awake, I look into the world the sun shines onto my ivory tusks gleaming like a finely made blade. I lay here day after day I feel nothing but the land itself around me. I know not who my parents are or what they are I only know I am not loved and not cared for because I am nothing but a green skin in there eyes. I chose not my pigment nor my intelligence but yet they treat me as if I want to be who I am and not someone else that has no problems but what no one understands is that what we are born too is not chosen by us but by cruel fate ever twisting and ever consuming.