…and if one stole the loaf of bread

in wide eyed starving stay

and sacrificed their very soul

or what they thought they may

in fancied time chose little else

for littles all they knew

and beat upon worn frightened brow

now frail and lonely too

where floured cups lay spilled and cracked

on mark with homeless dreams

and anguished soul shrieks tortured prayers

where nothing is as seems