one meagre pea

You have stolen my breakfast my
dinner my tea, left only a supper
of one meagre pea, so I starve
god I starve for you fail to feed
me, this table once bountiful now
is empty

The cobwebs and woodworm
leave rickety cracks, I must now
leave your home, fear I'll not be
back for a memory can't feed
god or hold a soul up, your child
begs as pauper with dusty old
cup

M P 3/7/22