Lady In Dismay Poem by Nancy Ames

(The speaker here is a woman whose idealism has led her into danger in the third world)

'This sugar's not sweet,
the milk's watered down,
the coffee's no treat -
it's just coloured brown.

I thought getting older
would be like a meal,
my head on your shoulder,
deliciously real.

Cherries and cake
with a little whipped cream,
for enjoyment's sake
as we enter the dream.

But I'm helpless and lonely
and everything's hard,
and food arrives only
when I'm nice to the guard.

It seemed to release
the soul of our love;
we were fighting for peace
in the shape of a dove.

I last saw you bleeding
all over the street.
I spend my days pleading
for something to eat.'