No One

you treat the world
like you're burning trash!
drinking oil from
styrofoam cups...

the blood on your floors
cries out from stagnant pools.
you see no one,
you smell no one...

you cannot hear or feel
the cry of no one dying
in your fields, in your shops,
in your sterile offices...

your form of hatred
begins within your selves...
you trade freedom and dignity
in small shares over drinks....

your world, your kingdom,
is a house of cards
falling from within...
and no one will be there

to watch you die!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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