Hunger Strikes

You who know no fear

of tomorrows filled with nothing

but a belly full of hunger,

The crumbs you scatter for the birds

never fall upon our tables.

Your platters filled with meats

in sauces made with wine

to tempt your pallet are unknown

to we who dine on dust.

Your tender, hope-filled words,

like peace branches brought by

carrier pigeons, we would sooner

eat than read the tiny scrolls

tied to their slender limbs.

We have a right to live.

We, too, have our dignity.

Do not think to hide cupidity for

our resources behind sweet statistics

devoid of all humanity.

The nudity of your purposes is poorly veiled,

disguised under promises of aide.

It is time to strike, for hunger strikes!

Our guts make their presence known

in a twisting agony of screaming need.

Can you not hear the dirge of nations

all but lost to this soul snatcher

called by terms now as benign as famine?

 

Nyuka Anas Laurent    15.02.2010