Pslam of the Starving

[ElsewheresDaughter]

I am one of 700 million
and so am easily lost from your view.
There are so many of us -
mostly third-world and non-white,
the disposable people.
Put us together from far and near
and we ammount to more
than the whole population of the western hemisphere
of our once fertile Mother Earth.

While you abound in affluence
and play in the luxury of her lap,
her breasts here are dry as dust:
there is no food,
there is no food.

I wander with the rest,
like swarms of hungry locusts
from camp to camp
when word spreads that there's food.
A handful of grain is given to me,
to a body that has learned
by months of hunger to ration it,
and so prolong the play of death.

They say you're on a special diet,
are selective about what you're served,
prefer whole-grain health food
and watch your weight.
I dream nightly of the feast
that's given to your garbage can,
could dine like a prince on your leftover scraps.

Thank you for listening to my pslam;
I know that you would care
if I came to your door
with my skinny bones and sunken eyes.
I know you would care -
at least I would care
if I were you.

[Bellamia]

1. Did you write this?

It is shocking, yet beautiful. What can those of us who do care,do?