Children of malnutrition,
Patients of hunger,
Hospital has no remedy,
For their peculiar cases,
Give them no drugs.
They have tasted their own blood,
They have tasted their tears,
In the very land of plenty,
Where all milk and honey,
Flow to directed direction.
The future of children unborn,
Suffers from kwashiorkor,
See protruding bellies,
Pregnant with nothingness,
Erected on rickety K-legs,
Another stillbirth,
The midwife will announce.
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