Three pennies for a slice of bread

By Nathan Munroe

Three pennies for a slice of bread; no eggor or Allan Poe tonight!
Nothing to do than to suckle on the feeling of un-satisfaction.
It has been like this ever since the military drank from our half-filled cups.

 

Then three pennies for a slice bread; and the elderly became as thin as a free bark.
Three pennies for a slice of bread bore bleakness into the once greeting faces of the people.
Now their tongues are boarders between their lips; and now they beg with an empty hand and full hand?

 

There were once days that their hearts were bodies of blue; but now they have hearts of winter!
Fresh memories emerged like new waves on the shore;
We once sat beneath the rocky parts, and our feet dug into the white sands and threw stones of the heart.
It was a time of hide and seek;
But now it's a graveyard of flowers!
And frosty winds are foul;
That had us brooding in the snow?

 

We had yearn for the warmth of summer;
To be able to blow on top the mountainside
And enjoy smiling sunshine scented flowers!
But winter's breath was like the touch of death;
One we ought endure until the sun bloom us again?

 

Nathan Munroe is fromGuyana and writes poetry and fiction