To Live Or To Rot! Poem by Eric Cockrell

we have crawled back
into our shells,
made primitive by technology,
still drunk with past successes,
we would deny the pain of loss.

conditioned to become nonpeople,
we build divisions and walls...
that in the end become our prison,
and finally our graves.
what are we so afraid of?

does it take being slapped
in the face by devastation?
does it take being hungry
to bring back taste?
the god we've wrapped in moth balls,
deserts us, and well should!

we are flesh and blood,
sweat and excrement...
and dammit, family,
who've become dysfunctional!
we swallowed the lie,
and it consumed us!

we either choose
to live or to rot!
time has betrayed us,
the hammer is raised.
are we only shadows and mists?

or are we hands,
hands made of hearts?
hearts made of flesh,
that smells like god!
a god as real as the human condition!