The Hungry Boy

A little living thing
With its head nodded
That wants to dig into the ground;
Its thick and frail limbs
With its digested utensils;
Struggling hard
To reach for the relief camp.
From somewhere he had heard that
There he will be relieved
From all his anguish.

The nature itself
In its mocking outfit;
Trees bear not any blessings
Wind impure, stingy with rotten smell;
Light ready to gulp down
In its sheer barrenness,
Ground magnetizing the skin and bone.
Long last week he fed upon
The mud and unbaked roots.

No one knew whether the parents
Are already out of the pains
Caused from the affliction;
May be their lungs were week
To bear the hardship;
But our hero has the guts to face
The challenge even though
He has no power to turn up his face
And glance where he is heading;
But to follow the track
Made by his ancestors.
The long, fainting, fuzzy trail
Which meant nothing to him
And leads only the path to eternity.
Although he always dreamed
It to be toward the heavens!

Behind awaits the terminator
In the apparel of a vulture;
To peel the skin off
To feed upon the dried gland and liver
Or the eyeballs or the digested utensils.
It is larger than our hero is
But afraid to face
The best creation of God
Or its wandering how the God
Could leave his love like this.

Whether the divine love
Is already out of stock
Or the God has turned blind!
It could not be of the Divine Justice
No one knew of what had happened next
Whether it reached the sacred destination
Or whether he was relieved forever.
No it’s the ultimate out come
Of the human intelligence,
Where no measures were reported
Hereafter of what had happened
Of the famished, decaying mortal!

by Rex Islam

Comments (4)

Dear Rex, I would like to publish your poem on a website we are in the process of creating against hunger. Please find in your PoemHunter inbox more explanation. Thanks in advance. Hans
Very good. Very well written. Extremely important message. So moving. I hope everybody in this whole wide world reads it.
You've captured the scenes with conviction, your choice of words are good too.The image is sad, and you've painted it perfectly. Kudos to u. Preets
Sometimes I wonder what a potential genius you are! Even in this poem there are signs that tell of what I think to be true of you. The use of words deserves every attention even from a fastidious critic, and the poeticizing of a simple event that you may have seen on the streets is worthy to be noticed. I hope you will be a good social and creative voice in the days to come if you continue playing with words and ideas coming from within, and putting them down on pages for readers. I wish all the best for your creative journey, and remember that I am always with you as I was before.