I stumbled across a bakery,

the fumes within entice me;

a child of four

drawn to the smell of flour.

Hunger growls vicious,

my hands begin to tremble.

A tear slips down my cheek

as I watch and cry in pain;

the last slice of bread,

thrown out once again. 

I grow older still

but no escape in sight;

this wretched place, 

that forsaken bakery.

With lust I look upon,

my heart weeps in anguish;

a part of me dies

barely holding in the scream…

as the last slice of bread

is fed to the dogs again.

I look at my children, 

a distraught sight;

everyday I witness

a part of them too die.

Some lucky days,

meagre food on the plate;

most days we cry

sleeping hungry in one bed;

and all I can think of

is that last slice of bread wasted all over again.

I start my demise,

lay on my death bed.

The doctor spout words,

‘malnourished’ and ‘deficient.’

As I close my eyes

I wonder if hunger will follow me?

With my last breath I say,

‘Don’t worry, don’t cry,

maybe heaven is the place,

where those last slices of bread I shall find.’