I see this one girl, and she lives in a little shack.
Dilapidated.
Tarps on the roof, absolutely falling apart.
And she is pretty, has a nice frame, really pretty hair.
Appears young, probably in the twenties.
Little beat up Toyota Corolla from 20 years ago.
Living in a shack, next to a four-lane highway.
With her baby.
Sometimes I’ll see her in the yard with her child on her hip.
So…
A couple things.
Pregnancy happens, I would wager that she did not intentionally bring this life into the world, not while she was at this level of deficit.
Second.
She deserves mercy.
I do not.
Her and her child deserve for the universe to notice them.
I do not.
It’s still early enough, that child can be anything, It can be anyone.
Probably won’t, but still possible.
So…
For every complaint that you have, and yes I’m talking to you, for every whine, every bitch, every grumble..
There are a thousand versions of her.
Ten thousand.
Countless unnoticed.
You think you struggle?
Lemme show you this shack.
I don’t know her story, I don’t know if she works or if she’s into drugs or whatever whatever whatever..
But she got a harder deal than you did.
The dealer didn’t even bother putting the cards on the table, he just crammed them right up her ass.
Multiply that to infinity.
So, while you are cruising through this life, try to notice.
Dumb fucker
dawn 