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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required California Cold Rented cars… every month the cost? Bread and milk. Why? To go get my kids. I had to. My own car was bad, unreliable, and dangerous. Custody, and Judges decided, the penalty I was to pay for making bad decisions, was to “serve” accordingly”. He loved me. He married me. We had kids together. Then he left… Or I wish that he had… as the bruises have not fully healed, this time, the bones, they may never mend. Freedom came with a price. I heard him yell, “I will make her…” Loudly. “If I can not, I will find someone that can.” … Sixty eight times 800, give or take a few side trips, I could have driven to the moon. The atmosphere would have been a bit more breathable, in the end. The parking lot, The exchange, the police… Every time. You kept our kid’s blanket. You stole it from his hands. You let him cry on the pavement, The blacktop… Before you, there groveling… (The bus driver gave it to him. It was his…You THUG!) I picked him up. I had to drag him to the car. “God help me get out of here.” Whispered, as only He can hear. The Police Officer asked if I needed help? (Not to get the loved blanket back, never… That was a civil matter, and had to be taken to court. No, to get my kid in the car before he called CPS) The other one, in uniform… distant, perhaps fighting his own dark battles at home? He did not look so friendly. I said “no”, and my son suddenly complied. We left. I bought three new blankets, at the five and dime. It took three hours, to choose. Then we drove home. 400 miles away. Heaven.
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