As my hunger made my body weak and blackened every ounce of my mood
And I held my stomach in despair
I thought of the impoverished ones
Who have been living their lives with pangs and pains of hunger
A constant cramp throbbing the pits of their stomach
Never ever satisfied, never completely erased
This Ramzan opened my eyes wider
Teleported me to the body of a hungry person
Whose goals in life are only to calm its never-ending pain
Who wakes up every day with the painful throb, not a crave
A throb as loud as the ones we feel when the dinner’s too late
His life begins and ends sorting through the leftover remains
Of things we feel guilt in throwing away
And believe we are better by saying, ‘People don’t have food, how can you waste’.
