Hungry

About a woman trying to feed her children.

Where am I at?
I continuously wonder
As I try to collect all the food I can muster.

Is this where I'll stay? In this retched place?
I pick up more scraps and hasten my pace.
I stumble home and feed my skinny children.

Every day these children I'll feed
so pray for me friends, and hope I succeed
In helping them grow and soon leave home,
But then I'll be all on my own.

I work ever so hard
To fill their tummy
I have to stop and remind myself: it's my responsibility, I'm their mommy.

We'll soon be going
I'll pack them in the van,
And leave this wretched place with all eight of them.