Hunger Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Hunger

In my hand is "Hunger, "
-joyfully keep reading.

Is this him?
-is this me?

Is this us?
-both of us?

Are we same?
-all of us?

I find in examples
-and samples
-a sort of betrayer
-that allows me witness
-the greed of hoarders
-not his, mine, but others'.

And I read; times again
-to see me in mirror.

Reading is painkiller
-not capsule, nor tablet.

Think digging for steel
-to melt and to mould it
-into sword and dagger.

When is done and polished
-must aim it directly
-into heart of greedy hoarder.

Or maybe I must make
-a huge mother-bomb,
-that if charged can blast,
-explode all the world…

Misery is this world
-when most die of hunger
-imposed by wealth lovers.