I like ‘em scrambled
I like ‘em fried
I like ‘em sunny
Don’t matter which side

I like ‘em easy
I like ‘em boiled
I like ‘em cheesy
Just please never spoiled

'Cause that's gross.

I'm hungry
saranade 7d

My hand held out...
...to guard your back
When your friendships lacked
...to give money or supplies
When you couldn't survive
...to hold your hand
When you needed support
...to give you a hug
When you needed love
...to high five yours
At all of your endeavors
...to pat on your back
When you succeeded this or that
...to throw a thumbs-up
Because you never gave up

My hand held out...
...to cover my eyes
Through all of the lies
...to hide evidence
When you lacked common sense
...to understand the unreal
Amounts of items you'd steal
...to my chin to stipulate
The way you'd manipulate
...to cover my heart and divert
From your stories that hurt.

I could do this when I had two hands.
I could juggle these separate demands.
My dominant hand is limp now.
The tasks I take on are now simple.
I can only do one thing at a time.
Like, write out this single line rhyme.

When you see my hand out...
...from utter desperation
Please don't tabulate your accommodation
...remember I never asked before my disability
That you had previously admired my stability
...homeless, dirty and hungry
Offer to help me, without charging money
...keep in mind, it's the only one I have
My abilities and tasks all need to be halves
...perhaps don't act put-out or surprised
Because the person who's asking is paralyzed.

I feel like my sister is so concerned with money, she didn't offer help to her newly disabled sister (me) until I could pay her. When things got worse, she didn't even check on me because she knew I had no money.

People will feed you with compliments
Of your appearance,
Leaving you hungry for more
And you will eat the idea that
You're the one with the problem
Because you're digesting
This pretty and skinny stomach,
Yet their the ones starving you of love.

Alison Latres Feb 28

These hands, baker's hands
With flour upon them
As they knead
And Fold
And Roll
And Shape
And Cut
The list goes on

With pastries that rise in the heat of a furling stove
To ascertain one thing,

These hands, baker's hands
Touched by the sizzling oils of
Deep-fried donuts
Or the sweet glazes and ganache
Of the most appropriated cakes

The fingertips of a baker still taste
Of sugars, of butters, of flours, of syrups, of juices, and
The list goes on,

As does the baker

Pax Feb 9

Most corrupt people
are already rich,
their hunger is much
harder to satisfy.

© 2013


I believed in Karma
But often times I think many powerful people has avoid it
By merely starving the hungry.
Karma is good, yet it takes time, longer or shorter it may seems…
It always starts in small doses.
Lady Bird Feb 3

there was no way to escape
the strangling rising waters
now penetrating its hollow core
attacking from the depths of
an endless source of bubbles
sinking its last hungry breath
to the bottom sandy sea floor
this skeleton corpse lost
the little soul it had left

This image inspired me --- https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K6SZQX9sAiY/WJPNegtz3yI/AAAAAAAAEhA/o4bTWafw4W8hLTDJhOzYBeOtv4GH9C05gCLcB/s1600/skull%2Bin%2Bsea.JPG

You were so hungry
You fed off my emotions
Now I'm empty and there's nothing for me to consume
Because you treated my heart like a feast

Sean Scribbles Dec 2016

I keep telling myself what I know to be true.
That I will not be here forever and ever.
And that one day I will be all which I endeavor to do.

You see, little old me never applied to me.
Because I am young and I am tall.

The world which I've yet to know stretches out before me.
And yet all I want to do is find the inner peace which sets me free.
The kind of peace which allows me to travel and return again without wanting to flee.

I have found such peace to a certain degree, but it's not enough.
My appetite is unsatisfied by this snack of life, and I doubt myself.
That I could possibly organize and properly depict the entirety of this thing called self.

Who am I kidding?

I'm just a man who keeps telling himself.
And that is the trick, to making the words in my stomach stick.
Like wild rice, are my thoughts to me.
But to find their way into the dish of life, will this not satisfy the appetite in me?

No. Because no hollow words from this hungry man will appease, the hunger for perfection in me.

For all those who hunger for more. Of whatever it may be. For me. I must turn to my father for such a need.
Megan H Nov 2016

A hunger for something
The child turns towards her mother
I'm hungry
A mother walks away from her child
You ate this morning
Because a piece of bread
At 8 am
Was supposed to be a reminder
Of what a great mother she was.
With only a baby doll and a box
The child continues playing
As her stomach slowly eats itself
While the mother goes out
To smoke the grocery money
And cry about her incarcerated love.

And again
We see why our world
Is killing itself.

Some people don't deserve to have children. Screw them.
SPT Oct 2016

He would have protected us with a baseball bat
Even if it was just the Pizza Hut guy at the front door
He once forgot he called-

Lol, had a step back to thin and crispy :)
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