Is it really so wrong
To covet thy neighbor
When they truly cannot see
what treasures lie before them?

Emaciated and broken,
As a starved wanderer I watch,
A man with a feast before him
Yet he turns up his nose

Through the emerald gaze
of a green-eyed monster I view
This disgraceful display of gifts
Woefully cast aside

This spectacle I witness
Confuses and astounds
For anyone can clearly see
The problem with this scene

Mortified, I stare
And with hunger, I despair
I wish the feast to be mine
But with none they will share

But with a glimmer of hope I will continue
And reflect on this sad, sad venue
One day I will sate this monster of mine
And no longer for the feast shall I pine