I Too Mourn The Dead! Poem by Eric Cockrell

i too mourn the dead...
the victims of bullets,
preordained by message.
the blown and splintered bodies,
strewn in nameless disarray.
the guilt pills of generals,
swallowed with patriotic vodka.
but too the carcass of the dog,
blindsided by the truck.
and the small bird beneath the tree,
whose wings froze and failed.
the stray cow that fell,
and couldnt get up.
the tree cut and felled,
to widen the road.
the mountain blown asunder,
to make way for progress.
the thousands of fishes,
choking to death on oil.
the river stopped and stagnant,
filled with raw sewage....
the young boy's body hanging,
at the edge of bullied taunts.
the girl on the corner,
selling her body for a rock
the businessman dying,
with every numb decision.
the body of the old woman,
barely breathing in a bare room.
the child sick and shaking,
dying of hunger...
the baby in the dumpster,
nothing else needs said...
and the apathetic faceless mouths,
devouring the poor....
i too mourn the dead, and the dying...
and see their faces,
in the palm of my hand!