is this my body, <br />or yours? <br />whose graven face, <br />whose broken fingers <br />numbly buttoning the shirt? <br />is this distance real? <br />this taste of ashes and pine... <br /> <br />whose sacrifice, <br />whose redemption? <br />what color the night? <br />the rusted creaking of dawn, <br />pulls nails from self-made coffins! <br />what we are, <br />or what we become... <br />even the monsters smell familiar! <br /> <br />if love is then a war, <br />who wins the final battle? <br />at what price? <br />and who names the refugees, <br />walking the dusty road of tribulation? <br />even darkness has its own chair, <br />so why am i <br />painting without a brush?<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-body-or-yours/
