His Swing Poem by James McLain
His Swing
I could love it to and you I should, do you?
Why should I love those,
and those of whom just came to play?
His swing she still speaks of.
The others often play,
to be or not to be and find, fair whether.
To every ones surprise,
the road that is least traveled.
It is only when I'm emptied, you are all the wiser.
I boldly go where tongues are often used.
And used the language of your likeness is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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9/21/2024 1:19:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
