Accusingly at me from the other side
Of the world, angry at the accident of
That places you there.
Masks the anger simmering in the
Depths of those black pupils
In the thin face.
As the heavy plate is carried
Past, the waiter struggles to balance the
Of food to my table.
Bowls in front of you licked clean
Of rice, now the cupboard is
There is no food.
Defiantly as the famine, the enemy
Approaches to exchange life and growth for
To steal what life remains.
As I toss the plate of food into the
Maw of the garbage, it was a five course
I take the food and throw it away.
At the poster with the pitiful you snapped
For a cause, ‘Feed the hungry children’ it
Twinge of guilt I feel.
But then I
And go to the door, dismissing the pain
In your eyes, I think it’s too late
You are already dead.