In the shadowed corners of failed to remember roads,
Where murmurs of trust and misery meet,
A youngster's little hand grips a blurred dream,
As craving's grasp fixes, a quiet shout.
The sun rises tenderly, projecting brilliant beams,
Be that as it may, the light uncovers just the craving's discomfort.
Void dishes look out for the chilly, broke ground,
As reverberations of chuckling are mysteriously gone.
Each passing second, a fight untold,
In the hearts of the youthful, mental fortitude turns cold.
They count the extended periods, the days that are somber,
Where a basic cut of bread is what they look for.
The business sectors overflow full, with wealth in plain view,
However in their wide eyes, the gala gets away.
With each splendid flavor that others can taste,
Comes an ache of yearning, harsh and virtuous.
Where are the hands that could support their predicament?
Where could the voices that ascent in the night be?
Allow not our lack of interest to obscure their skies,
For their craving is genuine, and it quietly cries.
In fields rich with gather, and kitchens aglow,
How about we plant seeds of thoughtfulness, let empathy stream.
For each little activity, a light in obscurity,
Can support the soul, can touch off a flash.
So stand with the fatigued, share warmth and your bread,
For a world limited by hunger is one loaded up with fear.
Allow love to be the response, let compassion guide,
Together we'll remain, with our souls open wide.
In a tune of voices, let the message ring clear,
That to really focus on one another is the way we hold dear.
For in every straightforward dinner, a commitment we make,
To end the call of appetite, for the good of every one of we.
Comments (1)
This is a very well-written poem 💫👍💥! Amazing