Flat City Interrogative

When I was younger My lover died from hunger For God had not flung her His scraps from the sky So I covered her over Neath the cold clay and clover I buried my lover Where the hungry all lie In Flat City, that city Where I heard the people cry It taught us and brought us A reason to die Then I drank myself numb Of that Flat City slum For the trucks had ceased to come And the taps had run dry. So I prayed for death to score me But she chose to ignore me And as though she never saw me She simply passed me by. In Flat City, that city, Where I waited for reply But its answers were just chances To repeat the question, “Why?”