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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=387813" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Have Mercy!</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have Mercy! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">with final thoughts<br>i walk these streets, <br>past vacant buildings hallowed.<br>in silent mourning, <br>my heartbeat joining, <br>the concrete scarred by living.<br>passing strangers hurrying, <br>as if they had a life to return to.<br>while the shouts and cursing of working men, <br>rings inside the empty walls! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">past tenemant buildings, <br>and unemployed stoops, <br>and eyes staring from windows.<br>dogs too hungry to bark, <br>squad cars passing slow, <br>tis the funeral of poverty.<br>while meth lab food stamp children, <br>sharpen knives against the curb.<br>and everything's grey, even the sounds, <br>the air is drunk with anger.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>i caught a ride<br>with a trucker wired, <br>who mumbled slamming gears.<br>out into the country<br>once green and rich...<br>now brown and deserted.<br>fields not worked, <br>farm's foreclosed, <br>houses left to ghosts and memories.<br>tractors rusting in the sun, <br>the air is drunk with anger.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">back into town, <br>past libraries closed, <br>and churches that ache with empty.<br>i can hear the sound<br>of the distant bells...<br>be it freedom or infinity.<br>past hospitals full, <br>and graveyards that move<br>with shadows in the night.<br>back to the small room<br>where i cant sleep...<br>where god weeps in the stillness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">America, America...<br>the air is drunk with anger!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eric+Cockrell">Eric Cockrell</a><div class=q>
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with final thoughts
i walk these streets, 
past vacant buildings hallowed.
in silent mourning, 
my heartbeat joining, 
the concrete scarred by living.
passing strangers hurrying, 
as if they had a life to return to.
while the shouts ..."></div>
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