The Poet

who is the poet then?
the master of words,
phrases, rhymes, and symbols...

or the one who wipes the ass
of the old man in the nursing home,
whose family does not come anymore.

or the young gay teacher
in the projects, walking the thin line
between the hatred of gangs, and hope.

or the small time farmer
who planted one last crop,
knowing that the bank was coming
to take it all away.

or the soldier in Iraq,
who stops to help a child up,
and sees his own children miles away;
cant speak, and cant breathe.

or the young man in prison
for something that he did;
just trying to survive, day to day,
and to find a new way.

or the young woman who was raped,
being humiliated on the witness stand,
and they call it justice!

or the man left standing
on the brink of losing it all...
the eyes of his family haunting him;
with nowhere to turn,
and no one to ask for help,
and a gun in his hand!

if poetry then is written
by the hand of God....
the hands are human!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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