The Poet Endureth! Poem by Eric Cockrell

i stare at my face in the mirror,
and count with the heavy rhythm
of the clock... moment by moment...
every feeling, born and unborn,
every taste, intoxicating, burning the lips...
every smell, faint and overpowering...
every touch... real and imagined...
and who am i? and what have i to give?
i am the sound that you cant define,
cant put to words, cant control.
i am the fire that warms you, and destroys you...
the water you drink that drowns you;
the wind at your back, the infidel wind
that whispers to you in the middle of the night.
i am the small child, lost and crying,
i am the murderer, still someone's son.
i am the woman you'd die for,
that leaves you broken and bleeding.
i am the priest, the prophet, the thief,
the addict, the whore...
i am everything you believe in,
everything you're scared to admit you feel.
i am the tear no one sees you cry,
i am the fear you keep hidden.
i am the hungry man standing in line,
whose family is long gone.
i am the casket they buried your mother in...
i am the words written in stone,
that no one ever reads.
i am the stranger who steps in front of the car,
pushes you away, and is killed.
i am the path grown over,
... that you'd forgotten!
i am the kiss, the touch of flesh,
the cry of passion in the night.
i am the soul damned to hell,
burned at the stake by the righteous!
i am the hand that touches forbidden places,
that holds yours when you're alone.
i am every mistake you've ever made,
and some you want to make!
i am a lost soul with a glimpse of eternity,
nothing more, nothing less...
i am the poet endureth! i am nothing
but the dust beneath your feet...
i am merely the echo of what makes you human,
i have no name... i am everybody!