I saw a frame of a picture on a show...

[WCGreen]

This poem sprang out of it..


What must it be like
To reach into that garbage can
For the first time?

At what point do you say
I’m so fucking hungry I can’t stand it
Anymore?

When does it
Doesn’t matter
Anymore?

Will I have the strength
To reach inside
For someone else’s
Leftover?

Maybe if I pretend it’s
My mother’s Meat Loaf
And I am saving it for
Later.

Maybe that is when
It does not matter
Anymore.

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. Nicely done...

I wonder too, if it were me...

Could I do that?