Poem by William Gant

Hunger Pangs
When we fast in honor of God,
or for some noble cause,
there is a break, a duration.
Manageable suffering, civilized
sacrifice with hunger pangs
half way through the day.

Pangs, a bland, puny word
with no meaning for the
truly hungry. Those
not really among us
not close enough that we
feel their hurt.

When food is denied over political
skirmishes, do the starving know
that somehow they are to blame
for the distended bellies of their
daughters and sons.

In America, where chefs are stars
and the latest food fad goes
viral, why do so few of us feel
that daily pain, the unbearable ache?

What of the millions
in the world that we ignore.
Who die hearing their last breath
as a sound of relief. An end
to the pain of having no choice.

Is Millions, too big a word?
A blurred mass of humanity.
If you cannot grasp the weight
of the choice of indifference.
Just choose one face.
Take one more look
at her eyes, feel his burden.
Make them one person,
​a person that you love !

4/12/26

THEME: Historical hunger

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BIO: William Gant is self employed. He Graduated from Washington College in Chestertown Md. in 1975