Lucky

The bones of her stomach crushing her body from the inside out slowly every minute she doesn’t eat. 

She calls out to people for help but no answer. 

People pass her by on the street, on the road where there is no end to her suffering.

Every time someone touches her there's possibility of hurt because of how weak she is at this point.

She scavenges for food, fighting off competitors wasting valuable energy. 

Luck is not a part of her dictionary and you can tell just by glancing at her.

Crunch, another bone aching.

She lays down not cause she’s tired but because her immune system is getting weak like a dying flower in the desert.

No nutrients means suffering for the living.

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

abbyschwartz3333

Putting into the perspective of both human and animals to show that the suffering can work for both animals and humans.

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