rags comes up to me. She doesn't ask me for money, she doesn't even ask me for food. She asks me to buy a package of diapers for her baby. She calls me an angel and I stop her, telling her I’m no angel for buying her as many diapers as she can carry because I’ve decided to turn my back on my own drug-addicted lover who may be carrying my baby."<br />
Maybe you wanted me to feel sorry for you, and part of me did. Part of me felt sorry for her. I felt sorry for myself, but what I picked up on was your men