It was never enough, eating the seeds instead of reaping their fruits
A burning sensation inside as stomach acid feasts on the lining
People drop and are consumed like flies in the streets
Women, children, no discrimination of the masses
It’s a systematic, unsympathetic breakdown

I watch as friends and family grab corpses
Dragging the bodies home by their swollen wrists
Its hard not to stare through their kitchen windows
Questioning my humanity as death counts his hourglass
I haven’t eaten my neighbors yet, but that may change soon.


Author’s Word for Thought


“On the battlefield men die quickly, they fight back, they are sustained by fellowship and a sense of duty.” In Soviet Ukraine during the Holodomor, people were “dying in solitude by slow degrees, dying hideously …trapped and left to starve, each in his own home, by a political decision made in a far-away capital around conference tables … The most terrifying sights were the little children with skeleton limbs dangling from balloon-like abdomens. Starvation had wiped every trace of youth from their faces, turning them into tortured gargoyles… Everywhere we found men and women lying prone, their faces and bellies bloated, their eyes utterly expressionless.”