To cry out and not have anyone acknowledge the pain. To whimper and scratch at posts with not a care in the world and not a witness to bear. It's the state of affairs when the higher ups, with their longer legs and longer arms, rush for their own sake and safety.
They'll leave you all alone fending for your own right. That's the rule of the wild and that's what makes raising the kids an easier experience. Such is the fate of any one still on the plains, and even worse still, of those living the death that creeps ever closer on each waking day.
Beyond the thunder of the stampede, there is nothing but silence.
Silence which only comes after the pressure proves too much to bear.
Written on Wednesday, 13 September 2006