The bite

on the inside on my stomach

"The last time I ate?"

"This morning." I lie through my teeth. 

I know it has been at least 24 hours, 

but

I know if I fixate on the reality, I won't focus.

Teacher, why do you ask me when I last ate?

To give me a piece of candy?

Will that solve anything?

"Why don't you go get something from the cafeteria?"

Why? Why? Because I have no money.

My sister needed shoes:

               there were quarter sized holes in the soles.

It is winter after all.

The cold bites like the hunger,

snarling like an angry dog,

waiting for some nourishment,

or another jab to the ribs.

Everyday, some rich kid yells:

"Hey, wellfare kid!"

Thank you for reminding me of that, as if I should be

ashamed.

Angry children pick on me

because I am weak from the emptiness inside me,

from the grumbling for food. 

One day, maybe I will cure this empty feeling.

I will make money

I will never let my children suffer

 One day, I will get rid of hunger.