Things I Forgot To Say Poem by Eric Cockrell

things i forgot to say...
smell like your hair on my fingers,
like the last glint of sunlight
trapped in evening trees.
taste like the charred flesh
of the family killed by war;
like the baby's mouth,
and the mother's nipple.
feel like poverty's prodigal children...
the heavy breathing of the old man
who works too much for too little.
hurt like the addicts eyes
staring through the empty window;
like the still a child
turned street whore,
who cannot turn away.
die like the noose around
the bullied boy's neck;
the harsh words of fear,
the trembling hand that holds the gun...
things i forgot to say...
like, 'i love you! '