A sonnet

This one is a lovely sonnet...I'll tell you what I actually wrote it about at the end...

Children amble weakly through the streets
Torn by the hunger of many days,
Longing desperately for something, anything to eat.
They search, but nothing comes their way.
Swollen stomachs tell the tale of the child.
Death prevails in her wretched world,
A place where refuse is excessively pile,
Where children in agony lay hungry and curled.
The hunger destroys some before the first breath,
The old and weak quickly crumble way,
Only the strong will escape death
In this village veiled with utter decay.
You can see the hunger in her eyes,
Give her something, anything, before she dies.

Yeah, I wrote it because someone ate all the leftover lasagna...you know I love my lasagna