Hunger

They call me a hungry man,   
I'm not to blame   
all I knew was hunger   
and satiation sans shame.
   
I was taking shape   
in my mother's belly   
She ate so little,   
Oh, so poorly!   
I was way too little; 
when she begot me
   a malnurished child   
with veins running green and blue,   
on a body so pale in hue.   

Day in and day out   
I shrieked and I did shout   
for bread, drink, food and milk,   
when others of my age   
rolled in garbs of silk,   
I stood in rags and tatters   
-an ugly looking scarecrow.   
   
   
They call me a hungry man,   
when I'm not to blame   
right from the start,   
I knew nothing of shame   
and once my mother died   
I neither sulked nor cried   
I saw her getting buried   
under sheets of snow   
and I became an uglier scarecrow.   
   
   
I used to sit still,   
timid like a sheep   
in garbage cans i put my hands
elbow deep.   
I sniffed for the leftovers
I searched for dry crumbs   
when deep in my stomach   
my hunger beat wild drums,   
then nothing made sense   
nobody came in my way   
and like a savage animal   
I snatched a dog's bone away!   
   
   
She says I'm a hungry man,   
woe! to my lustful appetite,   
it's my insatiable hunger   
which I could never fight.   

Was I ever to blame?   
and it's all still the same,   
from one womb to another   
my hunger knows nothing   
but to smother   
and never did I bother,   
to resist or control   
until I'm satisfied,   
I want more and more.