Liberation

Morning heralds life,

and hunger.

The opiate night,

Liberation.

Unclad, hungry stomachs,

tread the cold sidewalk.

Miserable sunken eyes,

a few morsels stalk.

Guts harden.

Like the sun, eyes droop.

Need now vacillates,

to sleep from food.

The sleep releases,

from ever grinding bowels.

Like death does,

from this hell.