A Personal Observation Poem by James McLain
A Personal Observation
As my dream's grow more insistent
and important, I know I am slipping away.
Avoiding eye contact with the others
it's to late for a proper diagnosis.
Bourn out of time I was born to soon,
how long must I wait this time?
I watch what the watched must see,
they do not panic like U.S.
For another to rise another must fall
becoming fossil fuel for them.
The roaches are dead the last dog left ran away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/7/2024 7:08:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
