The last spoon

I have the whole world to feed me when hungry
But no one till now has that last spoon
That last spoon which suffice the hunger
Filled with love and affection and not just grains
That last spoon which everyday I see in my plate
But can't pick and eat
As my hands have sprain
Sprain of hatred
Sprain of loneliness 
Sprain of darkness
Embedded with my emptiness
Each day I wake and see my hands
And dream of that beautiful night
Which is still to come
Still due to be seen
The night in which I can breathe
For my each breath at present
Has so much of weight
That even my heart feel betrayed
By the air who gives life
By the sun which shines bright
By the masters of my soul
And by the heavenly hole
From which I peep and see a world
Where one day I will live and be bold
And see my plate empty and cold
As then I will have someone to care
Someone to love
And someone to spare
Me from the emptiness and sorrow
From the darkness which makes me hollow
And then I can have what I want...
That last spoon, in my hands.