Roti

Parched, grey - roti 

On dazzling coal, 

Rat eyes stare their feast,

In and around alms burn

Tastier than a wealthy plate

Gurl and grunt- it is a war

Poverty has no voice, but sound

Three rotis and a guest; a dog

His eyes intense, ribs jutting,

And bruises of vague diseases.

'Hush' - alms are never shared.

He stare, tongue watering of penury

'Hush' - Poverty is never pity.

His stomach rumble,

Dogs are poor too.

I threw a quarter,

Like a rich would throw for me.