An empty saucepan is my sword,
A squeal for food my battle cry,
An arm to hold me, be my guard.
May I have these before I die?
A world of riches love and joy
within my grasp I almost see.
A tattered ragdoll for a toy?
May this be mine to feel free?
A cargo plane flies overhead
its gifts to parachute to earth.
Will they reach me before I’m dead?
And will my death bring a new birth?
I do not ask for fame or wealth,
I do not seek success to reap,
I crave one bite, one moment’s health,
before I reach Forever Sleep.
Dedicated to all those who are starving
and all those who are helping them.
John Bittleston
29 Jul 2025
