A ragged boy
Picking up garbage
A malnourished girl
Carrying around
Her brother
A family of five
With patched up clothes
Lonlely old man
Sipping on a cigar
Group of workers
Doing manual labor

A smile
Caught on Camera
Doesn't prove a thing
A smile
Frozen on a
Framed photograph
Doesn't convey the truth

They may not have everything
But they are the happiest
-The world's best l...

Read and leave comments (0)

The pathway is a little bit chewed

A little bit covered

          In permafrost

The later that night

          The more you surely loss

Deepen the mind’s abyss

          Feel around for the light-switch

                   Avoid the claws

The voices in my head, they are an oligarch

          They know you more than your family

                   And th...

Read and leave comments (0)

Hunger hides in the schools

Hunger hides in the uneducated

Hunger hides in a child's mind

Why should this be a political fight

We are not asking for a feast, just a little something to eat.

Sadness hides in the home

Sadness hides in the room

Sadness hides in the man on the streets

Don't want to run in your circle anymore.

Want to take that straight line le...

Read and leave comments (1)

Cracker Barrel shouldn't make you cry. 
That is a sentence that no one should have to explain.
Facebook, should occasionally make you cry.
That's a sentence that I think most people don't have to explain.

Sad children in a country that I probably couldn't find if I researched every piece of paper with any writing on it in my house.

Which is a lot.

Just for reference.

Read and leave comments (1)

Unlike a book with all blank pages
I don't need food for thought
but my thoughts are of food
like that Food Network guy (no, not Guy Fieri) 
like Alton Brown, no dish I'll turn down
as cliche as it may seem
I'm as hungry as a half-dead, raving dog
fried chicken dipped in honey flavoured barbecue sauce, sweet and spicy Italian sausage
just out of the oven hot fresh bread, juicy steak
licki...

Read and leave comments (0)

There are no young at the Yeung Sing hotel,

only those who grew old, singing for their supper,

or was it breakfast?  For night turns to day, turns to night,

waiting to break fast, to break bread, to break owt

of the Yeung Sing Hotel where the hands of the clock stand still

like the ends of the arms of the chef who mans the grill.

Daylight saving seems a concept made in h...

Read and leave comments (9)