A Poem Sad Poem by James McLain

A sad poem for me could be, such as this one;


Looking around, to where I am and how are you?
How did I come to be as I am so cold
and you alone.

Yes, tonight it is cold,
colder now as my heart looks up at you.

Mars is a lovely bright red
and Venus flickers under your lashes.

But love of love
where does it go, when it is unfinished.

A book still open as it must appear to some,
to others it may closed and never lost.


Where else like the cold wind, can it blow here so warmly.
Does the bristle pine like Methuselah's
love it's rocky bed of stone.


Kisses by the many thousands,
I can not help you remember each one.
Such sadness are my thoughts,
so I write them down for you.

And No,
Pablo, yes I am to simple,
perhaps to simple to forget her.
Your bed smelled of you,
while my bed I can't remember, but you do.