A Loaf of Bread


as viewed by a person in poverty

I don’t know how long I can live this way
This bread has to last me for more than a day
No matter the taste, to me it’s a feast
Because I have more than others at least

as viewed by a middle class family

As we sit down for dinner we take hold of each others hands
We realize we are blessed but don’t understand
This golden brown bread so warm and soft
Grateful and aware that we are better off

as viewed by a wealthy person

This scrawny bread is not fulfilling
It’s dry; it’s hard, and nearly chilling
Why do they serve this wretched crumb?
It’s half the size of my own thumb
Surely it is not up to par
I’d rather enjoy some caviar

as viewed by a baker

So delicate, so rich, so delicious
How I bake it makes others suspicious
Immense emotions wander through my head
As day-by-day I create such appetizing bread