A child starves to death in the developing world
where is the justice in that?
I don’t see none.
the world, round,
like politicians
rotates unbalanced in its axis
their skewers rotate in excess
we’ve got the means to fill a child’s belly with food
but where is the will?
there’s enough to go around for everyone
how long will this injustice continue?
those in power
happily sipping their floats
while millions of bellies bloat

Some will make their home
Wherever they can
Get to with their feet.
Cardboard box houses
And pallets they find
By trash bins on the street.
The boxes work well
Unless it snows or rains
And then when they melt
It’s out to find a home again.

Go on home
Where the love is
Home to family
Go on home
Where you’re welcome
There is no home for me.

Cookie used to be a chef
He lives under that low bridge
He cooks in used coffee cans
That just how his life is.
Makes dinner when he has it
For us who have so little.
You’ll find him most days
Cooking delicious food
Halfway to the middle.

Go on home
Where your bed is
Home to wife and your kids
Go on home
And be grateful
And not living on the skids.

Some people gripe
When the waiter is slow
And some were once waiters
Themselves long ago.
Some people are full
After they have dined
Others only manage to eat
Whatever castoffs they find.

Go on home
Because you have one
Because you have a job.
Go home where no one
Call you a lazy slob.
Go home and thank God
You have a place to sleep.
Go home and be grateful
Go home and God keep.

Blackbird
shadow death
witness
the spiraling
madness

glide
silent over
once vital beehive
shorn gray
paper thin

sip
raw honey
hardening
in the merciless
heat

nourish
the suffering
concentration-camp thin
jutting bone
slack skin

reflect
the boundless light
of a shield
wrought from
love

honor
these golden
futile gestures
they are not
infinitesimal grains

Blackbird
with beaded sight
testify
*do not avert
your eyes

The scavenger waits
End of a life
So as to feast
On a dead child’s meat
If at all the silly bird knew
It was just a sheet of skin
Wrapped on a cage of bones
For the meat was already devoured
In his struggle to survive.
                 © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 14 Nov. 2015. All Rights Reserved.

The chatter makes me think, think
Think, think of the brink,
Of extinction,
Of my pain,
And our scars,
The world is pressing too far,
Hurting,
Discovering,
Totally uncovering,
The weaknesses of people who can't take care of themselves.
Those people who are crying out for help.
The kid hit by his momma,
The girl depressed from drama,
The kid starving in Africa,
The teen trafficked from Albania.
This world is cruel,
Totally uncool.
People think it's minuscule,
These real problems that people face,
Every god ****** ******* day.
White privilege is a real thing,
And sexism is an issue,
Homosexuality is not a miscue,
And the only person who can make change,
Is
You

I care about popularity
I care about my looks
I care about the boy in the back of the class
Yet
I don't care about who I surround myself with
I don't care about my health, why eat more than 1 meal a day
I only care if the boy in the back of class likes me
Because,
I don't care about myself
I care about you. The one reading, it's You.
It's me,
Caring too much
Acting stupid for you
Starving for you
Just to look perfect enough so you know,
I'm here for you.
It's is such a selfless act of anxiety so discriminated.

Some days
It's as if I can't process emotion.
My heart is dying of starvation

Other days**
It's as if I can't stop feeling everything.
It's as if I'm full but can't stop eating.

And I have no idea what I'll do if this carries on

I starved for food

I fastened for long hours

Not for zero figure

But,for bankruptcy of my father

Now,I've plenty of food

   "    fastening has become fashion

Not for zero figure again

But,for being billionaire

I faced poverty once

So,I don't wanna repeat-Written on 17.09.2012