I will never know hunger as they do.
That searing pain, so earth-shattering, you’d **** a thousand men for a plate of food sitting at the end of a hall.
Holding your own abdomen down to block out the feeling as you try and rest your eyes at night.
That desperation— that could tear limbs off of innocent children.
But how could I know?
I’ve never stepped foot in that desperation.
I’ve never had to wonder when my next meal would be, if I’d even eat that day, or the next.
An abundance of life in this world, and yet some don’t even have the liberty to feed themselves.
A feeling that is too guilty to think about.