Normal Sixteen Poem by James McLain
Normal Sixteen
I feel I messed up this life and the world has only one eye.
It is normal no other human contact as long as it is something strange.
To many I's and to many me's,
must you explain every day of my life to me.
All the strange friends that call every day to speak to me.
You see every day your family's away or they do not speak at all.
Such as what's life it's only one life one life to throw away.
Marching past me, stopping to see, each normal day at a time.
Without ever talking, without ever stopping.
I can not say if this is normal life, I am what normal is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 10:27:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
it seems to me that a much better title would be Normal Thirty-seven. what do others think about this? i'm waiting for input. thanks, iip, for sharing. [it sounds a bit dreary. actually, it sounds quite dreary.] bri :) . p.s. on the other hand.......i reread it and find that many? do speak to the speaker, though others do not; THEY don't even stop! well, maybe the many(?) do not actually speak, but they do call..... to speak. as usual, i haven't exactly decided what this poem means to the speaker. : ( oh well.