I don’t like to write, I’d rather type. But I want to write to feel the pain on my fingertips.
A lost diamond ring is of little cost compared to the day when little boys stopped asking for their mommy because it costs them too much pain to have her come and leave again.
The sadness of sweet memories that could have been made is the heavy cost you made when you chose evil over love.
A sister, a brother- concerns turn to fear and then disgust, waiting to love you again.
Sobbing out of control, when a father holds a picture of his little girl, hands folded in prayer. A promise of a future of laughter not tears.
A large cost has been made. The little girl has stolen the happiness, peace and sweet memories away.
A mother knowing, giving her life would be a small cost to bring her little girl back, right now- Today.