Our Own
i heard you crying...
i dont know your name;
but i can feel your hunger,
your pain, can smell
your fear...
just like it was my own.
there are no walls
between the living,
no self imposed barricades,
no structured classes...
there is only breath!
and blood! and need!
tongues groping for souls
that taste like our own!
poem by Eric Cockrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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