By FRANKY LIANG

It knows not of repeating thoughts,
To wrangle for a scrap of bread.
The simple need to fill ones void.

It knows not of repeating thoughts,
To encase oneself in dirty rags.
With the ice spreading in one’s core,
There can only be want for warmth.

It knows not of repeating thoughts,
To soak one’s tongue with that which fell.
Human needs are of no concern.

It knows not of repeating thoughts,
To scramble for just one more breath,
Something that not all can afford,
There has to be a better way.

It has but one repeating thought,
To grow the gap and help them gain.