Privates Poem by James McLain

I walk in to many worlds.
While awake 'I' see but 'Death'
and it is more
than that 'dream' of what you think
of me, you did find.

Withered limbs, dry shriveled lips
obnoxious gasses
more than one pair of gloves 'I'
must wear on each hand,
glassy is each milky eye
that likes to watch, more come.

Youth now, 'Youth' every child we
have,
that perfect 'Angel' does no wrong
with a camera held in each hand.

My privates and rights to privacy
as last night
'I' found
out side of our window
a purpose you left cracked for all
your friends to find.

Our faces hidden, while mums hand
reached around
to find
that one lovely reason,
for why you are even here,
behind the blinds.

Untill it was sent to my phone.
Try to black mail
your new foster parents
with those pictures that hang
on the wall.