Two days in a row the paper tells the tales of dead children, left in the hands of parents declared fit by a system seemingly doomed to fail– whether it acts or not– those it is meant to protect. I know if I cried all day, every day until the last of my days, fewer tears would fall than blows on innocent flesh. It is strange to think of you as lucky for simply having survived those years that darkened your eyes. Because, you know, through those deep nights, I wished you luckier.
August, 2009