Hunger is painted on your face
and on all those
who look like you.

There are others making do
with what they got
reaching deep
in their not so deep pockets
for you.

Then there are those
who don�t know the time of day
from their Rolexes....

A contribution to the antilogy
in this bountiful land.

Copyright, 1993, by J. Matthew Waters
The Next Poem is Reading Between the Lines
or go Home