It could have been me, it could have been you

Image of emaciated child, stares from behind

safe screen in comfortable sitting-room.

It feels safe enough to eat your hearty guilt-free dinner.

This image, it could have been me.

It could have been you.

Great black pits of eyes, the only hint of life

in that poor body, the only liquid thing in that 

dry skin, those brittle bones, this thirsty land.

Moist eyes, no energy for weeping, in desperation

hold out their crippled, silent hand.

In safety we shed tears, careful tears, not too many, not too few.

Not tears enough to water this parched land,

not tears enough to quench the thirst of this poor child.

This image, is it a boy, is it a girl?

Difficult to tell. 

Starved creature filmed in the agony of its last hour,

beamed on screen from under vase of lush fresh-cut flowers,

in safety of sitting-room.

It could have been me,

it could have been you.