Fate And Yet Friends Are Poem by James McLain

I can not receive you without deceiving me.
And if I am
and could I have the world.
This is it the you the me
and kind each meeting trust it is.
To short to tall to pushy I have been privileged
buried in that nesting hall.
That's why the window face and what is not.
Each bird that flies high in the sky the key
has always been.
And loving life
all hate to die before befits these words.
To deep to shallow graves and misty waterfalls
that clean me up
and down the path from here to you I am.
The death of me is in my mind the Mediterranean
has opened up and came across the shore to where you are.
Character's and you will know the truth about
the and.
Come to me and you will read the rest of my.
Are friends.