Water for breakfast
Nothing for lunch
Like hungry outcasts
They scramble for much

No salads, no cakes
Just a day's plate
No chicken, no wine
They hunger and dine

"What is for supper?"
"A plate of sand,
Mixed with a little rice"
They feed with hand

They're hungry, they're pale
They don't need much
The soup we call stale
Will provide such!

© Raphael Uzor