One Hundred Lit Candles

sitting alone in an empty room,
surrounded by one hundred lit candles...
slowly, one by one,
naming them,
blowing them out!

hunger, apathy, pride,
poverty, prejudice,
sorrow, despair, greed...
self image, self fullfilment,
ownership, anger, judgement,
righteous indignation...

the stranger on the street corner,
the soldiers standing across the line.
the protestors carrying signs,
the pale faces behind
the covered window...

the preacher and the addict,
the whore, and the convict.
the young unwed mother,
the child crying in the night.
the young gay boy who hung himself,
those who stood and jeered...

the out of work factory worker,
face down in a corner bar.
my neighbor, my enemy, my brother,
and the ghosts that haunt my night.
empty graves and unmarked stones...
and more...

blowing them out!

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