“I CAN’T FEED MY KIDS”

I am their mother and we are all alone. I can’t feed my kids. We’ve been traveling from slammed door to slammed door for what seem like days now. The children are too tired to cry. They try not to worry me by complaining that their empty bellies are hurting them. A man offered to help awhile and some miles back. He said he would get us shelter and food and rest. All I had to do was sleep with him and his friends. But I know. He would not have stopped with only me.

I can’t feed my kids. 

 

"It takes a sincerely sick, drug-addled, putrified brain to come up with a world-view this demented."

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