muffled by cupped ears
hearts scorned, seared
Suffer little children
cries not heard
by those on mountain tops
They scourge its face
fling profligate refuse down
to begging arms
Fresh clear streams
once traversed down
to smiling faces
at its feet
Now blood-shot eyes
look up from dried crevices
in baron land
And the unfed little ones
abound, unseen, unheard
with extended hand
New year
a grand wish
that the morsels fill
the palms of little hands
