I see a face staring through the pixels and plastic,
a face I recognize, even as I search it for familiarity.
It is a face of a starving child about to die
and in this realization, a tear forms in my eye.
For how can this be fair and how can we accept it,
when earlier this night, I bought food I didn’t need?
After eating far too much and appreciating nothing,
I see this face crying out and I know that the words
coming from his mouth share nothing with what people see
when they think of starving kids who share nothing with you and me.
What is wrong with me, with us
when there are more jokes about these starving kids
than efforts to help fill the spaces between his exposed ribs?
I see wrinkles around his mouth, emphasizing his eternal grimace
and wonder why we face a surplus for those who don’t need it
while the needy and wretched sit waiting and defeated.