Breakfast of Tears

To wake up to the rumbling of my hungry stomach, To wake up with a starved mind: Without books to read Without games to play Without music to listen to And brothers and sisters to love you But moving deeper into broken heartedness I still stay in a refugee camp; Ready to be repatriated from a neighboring republic. Tears fumble down my cheeks As Rita, another war survivor stays in a refugee camp away from me A camp where broken hearted ones stay; One day your heart shall too be there Kissing with Rita's- where tears are there for breakfast: Tea, bread, cakes, fried eggs come later When you wake up to the plight of a broken heart With no one to care for you No one to console you No one to love you In the morning tears from your eyes trickle into your mouth; Breakfasting from what is already part of you.