A bitter pill sits before me, untouched and growing cold.
Regrets and shame are on my plate--a broth of gall in my bowl.
The world is offered up on a plate; what is our meal today?
As I sit here hungry for a meal, my appetite has gone away.
How many will feast and pay no heed to others in despair?
Some will call out loud and clear, hoping the world will hear.
There is hunger, grief, and pain--it sits outside of our door.
May those whose luck is down and out, suffer hunger nevermore.~Jay Olson
