A Constant Hunger Poem by Shaun Cronick

Where the Dickens is that takeaway,
Delivery time of just half an hour.
I've warmed the plates especially,
For my chicken sweet and sour.

I'll just play the waiting game,
Maybe they're rushed of their feet.
While worldwide others are starving,
Countless searching for food to eat.

So stop, then spare a thought,
Before tucking into our Christmas meal.
It doesn't just last for Christmas,
A constant hunger poor people feel.