Fist Of Rice

me:
Where are the keys to His massive barracks,
Which filled itself,when you filled them out,
Where each grain taken meant another added,
Some where in the depths of every heart,
Are those keys of gold locked in from inside
`
Gone are the days when man neither sowed nor reaped
But had plenty to share,for he never hoarded,
The times are now,when the barracks are shut
Open doors,your eyes and your hearts,see;
Those gripping to their groaning stomachs,
Save their souls ,now or never
A fist of rice, food for all

Neeraja :)