Friend, you  asked for a poem and I am now  in a  in fix
all buds  and  blooms of my garden  are dried up , I do think
Now the  desert  rule on my  desiring soul and  while I try to thrive
poetry fades on my  deprived  soil  and  survival only my life
bread and shelter ,-  my  only dreams ; life in turmoil  or storm
 tears  and  and hunger,--  all mixed up;  famine seems the  norm
Vision gone   dim searching food  of  any form  or  source
All  Art & aesthetics are  alien to me  ;the   ideal now --resource !

Wife now  demand,   surviving  food ; don't expect my love
should  you ask for  a  poem  now, when the  children starve
My  defeated dreams , all  locked within; you can even see
So  I  fail , to send  you a poem and  you , please  excuse me  !