Yet the rich are fat

  

There are so many hungry people yet the rich are fat.

On the streets are thin bodies, children begging, crowds pleading for food. There simply isn’t any food. 

Yet the rich are fat.

As the sun dips down, the rich invite people into their grounds. They enter with the hope of a meal, a temporary release from the misery. They enter with the look of being thankful.

The rich were good at the end of the day.

Next morning the cart comes out, drops the bones into the rubbish then leaves.

There is no food.

Yet the rich are fat.