Trembling My Hand Reaches Out To You Poem by Cigar Aficionado

You are ashamed it is I who am dirty
thinking this you rush home to take
a shower.
On the way to church you will pass me.
I hunger for your word as a child I have
pain as well.
You claim to fear me when our eyes meet
why do you turn in shame?
It is I, whom am
dirty.
Would you think from you I would take what
clearly is not mine?
I to fought and we died, so you could walk
and drive these very streets.
So you could talk and wright in freedom so
you could fear me.
It is I who am ashamed, it is I who dwell in
side you.
I do not drink.
I do no drugs.
Please make me not fear you.
With an unkind word you could have me
arrested.
They might shoot me with electricity some
think it's fun, thats why they were born
I heard some say, it is sad.
Most are god's servants as are you.
You say I am different.
I am but a mirror, deep from within, inside of you.