Tears That Jesus Shed # 3 Poem by Eric Cockrell

living in broke down cars,
your face as hard as your scars,
waiting for tomorrow that wont come.

wash your clothes in dirty sinks,
your hands bruised, your hunger stinks,
when they come you wont run.

or sleeping in the alleyways,
too damn tired to care or pray,
waiting to stand in line.

bad dope and broken glass,
forget you ever had a past,
trade forever for a dime.

stamp the numbers on your head.
you're just one of the living dead.
one of the tears that Jesus shed....
one of the tears that Jesus shed!