Eric Cockrell

I Am... (The Rage Of Love) - Poem by Eric Cockrell

i am the gun,
in the hands of the thinker,
the last road, the last chance,
the last prayer, the last door.
i am the sickness,
that greed inflicted,
that apathy wont touch,
that stinks at the table.
i am the parents,
burying their child,
i am the stranger,
burying the parents.
i am the poor,
denied the word freedom.
i am skin of color,
covered by tasteless white skin.
i am the rope,
hanging from the rafters.
and the holy book
that tied the noose.
i am the drug of charity
that denies involvement.
i am the token gesture
made by hands that never open.
i am the dollar and the dime,
and the vast wasteland between.
i am the sound of books burning,
and the crackle of flesh.
i am the cry for justice,
lost to the din of noise.
i am the noise of ignorance,
that shouts defiantly at stillness.
i am the face of the small child,
whose parents just died.
i am the rage of love,
too long denied!

Listen to this poem:

Comments about I Am... (The Rage Of Love) by Eric Cockrell

  • (5/15/2012 4:57:00 AM)

    A fantastic poem, like it. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, May 14, 2012

[Report Error]