When the Hunger is Real
"Pain is fleeting"
This we often hear.
It is a butterfly flying,
Careless on a warm spring breeze.
It is no more on the mind
Than the hungry in a distant land.
When Hunger strikes at home,
And darkness shrinks the heart.
The air is invaded by darkness
And the Butterfly falls under the oppression.
Defenseless, it will lie down forever.
What shall we do then?
Should we not grab the Butterfly through the polluted air?
Should we not place it in a bubble in the epicenter of the darkness?
Should we not show the Pain the beauty in the intricate wings?
The Butterfly must stay afloat,
Or Darkness will always command its domain.
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