Empty Plate

(By Jan Phillips)

In this world so filled with hate,

There is never enough food

To fill my empty plate.

My body is oh so weary

Of the fight I cannot win

Against the hunger pains

That come and come again.

Oh help me! Help me!

Each night I cry.

Wont you please help me

Before I die.

I have no job,

So there is no pay,

How in the world

Did I get this way?

Give me a job,

That’s my plea.

Help me break this

Cycle of poverty.

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About Jan P

I was born and raised and still live in the great state of Oklahoma in the U.S.A. I live in Oklahoma City and have lived her for over 40 years. Came from a small town in eastern Oklahoma. I was raised on a farm as my daddy was a sharecropper. I worked for the Department of Defense for over 30 years. I am now retired and trying to catch up on all the things I didn't get to do when I worked. I have written poetry for many years, but only recently started writing more since I have found a place where others can enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

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