often, when there seems to be no way,
and as sure as the sun will go down,
a silent prayer, 'please let it be today'
but there it remains - the same old frown
the stomach grumbles with discontent
there hasn't been much to munch,
each passing hour increases resent
of the discarded food and free lunch
there is nothing to enjoy - not a movie,
not that favourite song, not nothing,
the pangs increase, gravel would taste like gravy
at least it would be better than nothing
and then, stuck in a web of gloom
nothing ever comes to your mind
everything seemed crammed a tiny room
you search, but there is nothing to find
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