there is no need to speak to me of hell.....
i hear the cries of women and children
dying in the bombing...
i feel the tears of mothers burying
their only sons.
i reel with the hunger,
of refugees and homeless families.
i hurt with the anger,
of the poor and desperate.
i can smell the failure,
that drives people over the edge.
i am imprisoned,
with those behind your bars...
speak not to me of hell,
but rather redemption and action...
Eric Cockrell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/speak-not-to-me-of-hell/
