guilty fingers pointing back <br />till they pierce our heart. <br />i could say i'm not like you, <br />but you'd shine a light into my dark! <br /> <br />we take without thinking <br />about the scars we leave behind. <br />make judgements without blinking, <br />the walking deaf and blind. <br /> <br />and the sound of the heart <br />shakes the ground. <br />hunger burns, the sea churns, <br />and babies drown. <br /> <br />you pray to God, <br /> but your prayers fall amid the furor. <br />in the temple of the self, <br /> bowing down to the mirror!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/temple-of-the-self-5/
