I have stood on the edge Of disaster for far too long. I have slept with poverty and injustice. I have been both hungry and homeless. And yes, i feel the rage, the hopelessness, The sense of betrayal... I have worked too hard too long For too little. I am overcome with a feeling of lonliness. I wear the scars of my mistakes. Both trapped by fury, and intolerant Of the lie... I am a man alone on the last journey. And yet i am a million faces, I am black and white and red. I am the pen carving names on tombstones. I am the prayer of the empty bed. I am the soup kitchen feeding souls, And the courtroom in flames . I am the audacity of God, Choosing the common standing naked. I am an old man, and a tired voice. But as i look into the night I see the faintest hint of a light... As i listen to the wind, I hear ears clapping with hearts! And if this be my last word, Let it be a bridge... Eric Cockrell
Posted on: Thu, 27 Nov 2014 03:18:20 +0000