John W. McEwers
Friendship Is Nice For Her - Poem by John W. McEwers
She walks with her bag in hand but
Never really has anything in it.
Kill time with clip-clop heels and candy
Cans full of breath mints for prospective passers-by
New friends to make by night,
They are gone,
And she is left to smell what remains.
Cigarette ash and spilled perfume.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You