Sick and dying people wishing for at least a morsel
To hit there table plagued with a never ending hunger as those at the top
Allocate more then enough for them selves
Righteously proclaim that they have next to nothing leaving a
Vast empty wasteland for those
At the bottom to sift and scavenge for fighting as if
Though it was there last meal before meeting the entrance
Into the sweet relief of starvation's
Open armed embrace calling to jump into the void
Not knowing what may lay on the other side.
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