down through the woods <br />to the clearing where <br />the hanging tree stood... <br />sometimes you can still see <br />the shadows of ghosts, <br />swinging in the hot summer sun... <br />now the tree has been cut, <br />and time has passed, <br />yet the air's still heavy with guilt. <br /> <br />do we know more? <br />are we more civilized? <br />or have we just changed trees, <br />and gotten better rope? <br />what do we call the young men <br />sent to die in the oil wars... <br />the young people stuck <br />in the gang ridden slums? <br />the bullied ones who lose hope? <br />the illegal immigrants who die for work? <br />the young couple stuck on unemployment <br />and food stamps? <br />the elderly couple evicted <br />cause they cant afford the rent? <br />the Muslim family afraid to go out at night? <br />the gay couple in love who cant get married? <br />the young children without a father? <br />the millions strung out on pills? <br /> <br />what do we call it, <br />if we dont call it hanging?<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hanging-tree-what-do-we-call-it/
