Loneliness Is Poem by James McLain

Loneliness is large round this world
so I have become to you
growing it does when it has grown tired.

And are thus from you, cut off from it/it dies.
Love wence it came opens departs.
One off from the other but one.
And when it is you this you are.

Where the people are good
when it is just to much very much
and legaly excesively thus exacted
extracted is mutually.

As for the rich person being of like mind
I do but supp with the lonely pauper,
who is not thinking but of good of the rich person.

Driving by
waving me off is not this feeling good to the pauper.
We all never fear it is me.
As for our education system
as for those of us who are informed to love, Volunteer.

The people are good mutually.
The people are good mutually.
The people are good mutually.
I ask this of them and them that are they, some never suppose
that it is often more having not.
I won't ask certain things from thus of those.

As for the bead of cold winter dropps of sweat that you see,
as for the cloud and the deep blue sea.
As for the waves at your feet,
as for the sand with no prints.
It is me and you together in this all as one.

Walking in front or behind, to none I am blind.
The people are good when feelings are mutually.
Perhaps when thus of this it is so.
Then never coming our deaths are not sad excessively.

As for me at that time of the year the flower the stalk.
When both talk of the spring.
Chance looks at the girl that is young,
looking at the boy which grew off from her old.
There must be a method to this.

There must be a method of not having.
Loneliness is someones method of madness
that has long gone astray.
Still I am looking up, short.
Which is not said, have you said of it come lass, no.