Are We? - Poem by Eric Cockrell
the body hanging on the cross,
was bread, medicine, and human...
ears alive, eyes seeing, heart beating,
till the end.
hands open, feet walking,
till driven by nails...
of such is true religion!
are we then any of these things?
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You