Feral

She’s starving and cold. Under a crescent moon she strolls across the high, damp grass searching for food and shelter. She can’t find a scrap to ease the hungry pains. She climbs the tall, chain link fence. The building stands empty, illuminated by the stars. She may not eat tonight, but she will sleep without fear.

 

Close by the brother munch on a late night snack. They are antsy. They sense a stranger near by. They can’t find her though, for they never leave the comfort of there home. As the night rolls on and bellies full, the brothers curl up on a plush bed and soft fleece blankets. Deeply they sleep.

 

She wonders if they notice her. She’s so small, so insignificant, so invisible. Surely no one even knows that she is alive. She curls up tight into a ball and tries to rest her weary eyes. She’s never had a bed, she’s never been given a meal. She’s worked hard for everything she’s ever had.

So close by and yet a world away, the brothers have never known struggle. Every thing they want is laid down at their feet. They have no concept of charity because they’ve never had to endure.

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That’s the difference between feral and domesticated 

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