Bitter Hemlock

i would rather drink bitter hemlock,
or walk naked into the night...
would rather starve in the streets
of Haiti, amid the cholera and despair.

would rather hide in unknown caves
from the bombs that split the earth.
would rather rot in a prison cell,
staring forlorn through the bars.

would rather work in the sweatshops
or pick cotton with the migrant workers.
would rather take a bullet,
swift, and hard, and final!

would rather stand at the gates of hell
with every mistake i've ever made.
than to open this door, and say nothing,
and watch you walk away.

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!