sleep with the weeping ones, <br />and walk in their shoes... <br />their faces always before me, <br />i feel the cuts on their fingers. <br />i hear the gutteral voices of suffering, <br />too naked to speak words. <br />my blood runs in their veins, <br />and theirs in mine!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-their-veins/
