Is it the hunger of children

that brings the beast to prowl.

Crying out the souls of poverty as

sticks and stones lay down their head.

Salty tears drying just below

the eyes of today’s forgotten,

dripped onto the little feet

without footprints to follow.

Callused soles of traveled miles,

rubbed into the distain  of nothingness,

from thick leather boots stepping

on the fear of the lost children.


Copyrighted:  2018  CMM