I'm full.
My Belly aches.
The consumption of bullshit
has become overwhelming.
.
A years supply of meals
taken by ruthless rebels.
Graven to weaponry,
were the remains of
American gratitude.
.
Fixated eyes see not,
our village burning.
Nor, do thier optics
capture the hunger.
God only appears in
the form of bread.
.
Here, where enough is
as good as a feast
and hunger's befriend
by it's feeder.
.
While the hunger for love
more difficult to remove
than that of bread.
.
Your loose change serves no purpose.
Our schools turned to torture centers.
A haven for the rebels.
1-877-America
The publicity only brings genocide.
Upon your departure we are
murdered.
A high five to the devil himself.
There is no bread.
Stomach's moaning.
Starvation, Malnutrition.
The leading cause of death
aside from the rebels.
.
Husbands turned scavenger's.
The goats have died.
The well's dried up.
Crippling droughts
consistantly
killing our livestock.
.
There's nothing left to barter.
.
An undernourished population,
unable to digest advanced grains.
With no sense of self-worth or
ability to enhance one’s economic destiny.
.
One U.S. dollar.
Amounting to a nourished family.
The swiftness of divine retribution,
sent in golden grain form.
Has yet to cure our famine state.
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