fruit

no sadness i know as
bittersweet embedded
deep in the fibers of
this fruit, its juicy
flesh laced with
vagrant memories as
penniless as children
with hands outreached,
begging for change to
spare what hunger boils
behind frail rib cages,
ready to collapse amidst
desperate self composition,
in their soiled existence
often overlooked by wealth
nonchalantly tossed aside,
permanently veiled under
the blind and unenlightened…
no melancholy still i taste
as bitter in each spoonful of
disparity shoved to appease
my own hunger, calm this guilt
laden conscience of mine

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About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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