'Hunger My Dear' Poem by Monyping Marial Buot

Hunger, you makes me simple
You makes me cry, you makes me easy
The simple one to ignore

My stomach always complaints because of you
I am always heated as if I lives on an oven
I feel discomfort, no rest at all
I must walk and work to fill the small bag
And when the small muscler bag is filled
I feel Swelled
And swig
And when I see someone eating simple food after I ate chips and chicken
I look at them like those eating fork to Muslim and drinking swill
And those people look swinish to me.

Dear brother,
Why don't you care? You like attacking, famishing in the weak side of the country
Weak people starves every year
The poor one who have nothing at all.
Let me want you
Today
Now, that they will one day curse you to death forever and ever in their present.

I have to toll for you in order to get ride of you
Swinking is the matter of the day
And if I don't drudge
Then
I have to swipe
To steal, to survive.
Every human-being sufferable, non of the living creatures is insufferable
Either on earth or somewhere else,
With you
Everything is noneffective

Hunger,
You are peccant
To me, to my relative and friends
You make all of us Peccable
Why?
Do you think you are peccadillo to me?
No, you are absolutely a murder
I abhor you
In my life
I loathe you.