Do not cry, dear children of today. The hunger vein rests near your lips, moving down to the hands as you sleep. When you wake you'll feel its teeth gnashing at your sides, hands of suffering pushing inward to knead the emptiness… Hunger has ascended above the choir, punctured the stomach, emptied the fields and flooded nakedness with the scratching of death. (War and murder can’t compete.) What are we to do with you, now that you’ve grown up and you’re still hungry, still moaning, weeping, breathing? Your arms are lovely, flailing in the water. Your wet skin looks stunning. How long can you hold your breath? © 2010 by mark prime The Hunger Site Bread For The World Action Against Hunger
(The Weaver's Song)