If only countries could put as much effort into feeding the hungry as they do war.
Too focused on fighting to notice the starving mouths they ignore.
The rumbling stomachs of children echo loudly like bombs,
Covered ears ignoring cries with no qualms.
Out of sight, out of mind, so they say.
As skin and bones search with sunken eyes for food in dismay.
Disregarded like the trash they often have to forge upon.
Like an alarm, appetites scream loudly every day before dawn.
Forgotten are the emaciated as they become dust.
Prioritizing war over hunger leaves me in disgust.

© 2017, poem, S.R.Chappell

Editor’s Note: The illustration is courtesy of Nme ” a self taught urban artist, currently living in the SouthWest UK. Having been brought up in an urban area, Nme was exposed to street art from a very young age.His work is often confronting politics and social issues.”

“I just put pencil to paper, knife to card, and hand to can, and try to let the magic happen. It’s my labour of love & way of life. I live by… the paint & will probably die by the fumes, Its just what i do.” Nme 

Find more of Nme’s work at Street Rat.

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