Kill Me Slow Poem by James McLain

Drag me through the tempestuous coals
the furry eye of truth none know or dare it's peak.
Take the valley, to my head your hand does grip
when your alone.
Foul, foul, foul I cry, when you get mad, and push it out
when it was you that had your fill O me.
It is o.k. I will take the love on any day you care too serve it..
You pull it up, down, up, down, life is always
slower than the srokes before I die, you caugh up too it.