The Struggle

Echoes of
At home,
I’ve raised a few doves.
Each day I scatter grains for them,
and stand watching —
how quickly peace
turns into a quiet war.

Some devour greedily,
grain after grain;
others only watch,
unable to lift even one.
From their hollow eyes
I learn
what hunger truly looks like.

Though this house is theirs too,
competition is fierce —
so they slip away,
crossing into the neighbor’s yard,
drawn by hunger’s call.

And I,
who give them my heart,
can’t help but wonder —
will they remember me
if they win
and I lose?

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