Thursday 27 August 2009

Etched Hunger .+

The hunger in his eyes,
Pierced my heart yellow.
The cold, deep sighs,
From the dirty little fellow.
I’ve seen him before,
He lurks on the streets.
With clenched teeth and an empty stomach,
And more than one mouth to feed.

He looks at the table,
And sees a feast,
Though it’s only me,
He sees a beast.
I can see his desire,
What we, cold-blooded, can’t see.
Rescue him from this mire,
Too cruel, are we.

He’s peering through the glass,
Into my half-filled one,
He’s from an entirely different class,
And yet, he’s human.

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