Mystic Anchor

human beings race around
like mad rats praising a God
that they barely know,
and wouldnt recognize
if they met Him on the street...

hoping for a quick fix,
a lucky talisman, a mystic anchor
against storms of our own design.
a nod of the head to eternity,
as life pours from a boot

onto bloody streets...

poem by Eric CockrellReport problemRelated quotes
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