Hunger in America This is the story of hunger, the story of famine. This is the final story to be carved in stone. A story told by men without fear. A story told by brave and honorable men lining the streets with their hands out. A story retold by those that walked by, pockets jangling with an icy swagger. A story retold by men with cars and money motivated by the sounds of a private freedom locked safely inside tomorrow. A story walking inside us, a story walking by, shrugging, as if to say, “No. Not today, pal.” Nodding, as if to guarantee, “Next week.” Our noshed tongues waggle without end, leftovers tossed like dice in an alley. This is our story of hunger, our story of famine. © 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
(The Weaver's Song)