Hunger

I look around through my doomed eyes:
brighter than the sun, the night is now;
I travel my memories once more,
and find one child, waiting, counting,
and another, counting on survival,
who offers more happiness than mine.
The city is filled with bulbs and sweets,
and a melancholic mind, like mine.

I open my arms to reach him,
but the silence of my own stands between us;
those gleaming, shimmering eyes, staring at me,
leave me worthless, and full of thought.
What is the meaning of my life, my brightness,
when all around, in one, I see only darkness?

I reach for my wallet, out of pity —
but pity itself dares to hope;
I close my eyes, and think:
when all of this is around — but not happiness;
those sweets, those crackers,
waiting to burst, and to laugh,
a day to love, a joy for one and all —
but all day long, he goes without.