food for thought
by Daya Dissanayake
food for thought
the face of a
starving child
stares at me from each grain of rice
on my plate
curries made hot
with blood
flowing from bodies of innocent children
wounded, maimed and killed
in the name of country, religion or freedom
spiced with the
sweat of the toiling millions,
salted with tears of their women
and children.
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