In Their Veins - Poem by Eric Cockrell
sleep with the weeping ones,
and walk in their shoes...
their faces always before me,
i feel the cuts on their fingers.
i hear the gutteral voices of suffering,
too naked to speak words.
my blood runs in their veins,
and theirs in mine!
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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