Hunger

A poem of poverty

Hunger

It eats away at the guts, the soul.

the pain of not knowing when it will be cease haunts every waking dream and thought.

Paper?

Why so important?

Why the fuel to every fire known?

Rags, but not to riches as it may seem.

Stuck wanting 

Crying

The fear and disgust of not having what most do not even treasure.

hiding how much the hunger eats away.

Money taunting every move

and laughing in the face of the fallen.

Emaciated limbs viewed as beauty

hunger 

starvation

alone

Reviews

[wyrd]

the sharpest blade cuts deepest. Your poem is a blade forged of hearts blood but needs a bit of sharpening to cut as deep as as its subject demands.
Hunger, paper, crying, hunger starvation alone, the focus of those words doesnt quite connect together if you see what I mean.
You have a fine turn of phrase and language and I enjoyed it, honest and truthful.

[Crow21]

Your words on its own speaks volume but thread together like this loses its intended purpose.