Famine Relief

you were born hungry.

I'm sorry
I didn't know how rare the days were that you ate,
as I grew up picky about what was on my plate
you grew up working.
I'm sorry
I thought grade school math was hard
as you worked the fiedls hands blistered and scarred

you started your family so young.
I'm sorry
because I know you didn't really have enough
while my life is filled and filled and filled with stuff.
you nursed in fear.
i'm sorry 
but i just don't relate to that feeling of dread
that you might wake up to find her small fragile body dead...

you reached crisis.
I'm sorry
I think i was probably wasting time that day
used no moment to even think of you, let alone pray
you left your home.
I'm sorry 
because as I cling to the comfort of mine, hunger pangs despite
you're wandering through the desert, searching for respite

you were widowed.
I'm sorry
h-u-n-g-e-r the 6 letter kiss of death non-discriminating
the pain comes in w-a-v-e-s and in between there's waiting
because you are alone
i'm sorry
it's just too far, the journey's too much
for our hands to hold, our journeys to touch

and you because a refugee.
I'm sorry.

I know you're calling for relief 
and I am sorry.
But I don't mind if you come gather among the sheaves,
I'll take what I want but the rest I'll leave.
I'm sorry but 
I see your picture on the news at night, 
and I'll give my money, then move on from your plight.

I'm sorry but
I just don't think we hear from where we stand
the depth of the cry from the horn of your land
and I'm sorry 
because the loudest call of relief to which I heed
has to do with how relieved I am it's not me in need