The Color of Hunger
by Dragon Blue
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Rated "R" by the Author.
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Author's Note: The color of hunger does not mean red, yellow, blue, green and purple. It is the emotions and thoughts that are forthcoming when you are VERY HUNGRY. The young hungry one in my poem is the very essense of the color of hunger. Have you ever been hungry? Have you ever gone without a meal for days on end or had to worry about your family eating because rent costs $1000 a month and you make $850 a month for slave labor? Have you ever seen a woman who only wanted to be a mother and a wife try to raise four children on a woman's salary in the 1970's because the husband chose to beat his family, drink and whore around? Have you ever had to sleep on the cold cement and wished there was a cardboard box to insulate you from the cold concrete in 15-20 degrees below zero weather? Have you ever had to walk miles with holes in your shoes or no shoes at all? Have you ever been made homeless by one who was supposed to love you until you disagreed to be branded with his name right above your abdomen in derogatory terms? This is the color of hunger. Those who allow it to happen are those who are the few and have the power to stop hunger, poverty and despair. Greed, power and the all mighty dollar are their goals. The others who allow it to happen are those who refuse to see it. They do not want to discuss it because it makes them uncomfortable and offends them. Don't you think that hunger, poverty and abuse makes those who suffer from it very uncomfortable and offended if not shamed and feeling worthless? This is the COLOR OF HUNGER. I have been there, have you?
The Color of Hunger
Heated arguments bounced around
undercurrents of anger and hatred abound.
No way to tell who might win,
Gunfire echoed in the empty din.
Entering the heart of a hungry one
Running in full length motion.
He died there in the cold alley-
understanding far from his reality
nothing could warm his heart of stone
grossly inadequate in love and alone
escaped this hell with his death
resting, he let go his last breath.
Hunter became the hunted in a twist
under the cold November moon as the mist-
nestled into every heart and home
giving all a cold chilly moan
easily death took her prey
reaping what she had today
Heal him? No one knew how.
uncertain if they should till now.
nocturnal, he turned in desperation
giving his life to find restoration
enduring the pain of hunger-no longer awake
reaching his destination; his goal intake.
Hunger, the many colors it finds
united only in the body & mind
not caring how it destroys life
going on its way to create strife
energy it drains from the soul
rivers of pain behind it roll
Hunger; only present as is allowed
unattended by those who can cloud
notes of sound by those with no food
greedy power their goal; living rude
envision their complete control
ripping apart our very soul
There you have it and so it goes...
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