Our Need And Love Of The Act Poem by James McLain

Can love be all, if it is not mean nor full of hate?
No more being measured by how you look or if in sleep,
You sleep in the nude as rain blows in through the window.
Yes if so I would watch as you have watched over me.
Neither open or closed as I float there above you.
A thousand times in and out, in and out as you call me.
Hate has and certainly can, suck out the life the very life,
Of those whom were raised that way, can you forgive them?
That lonesome dominion called death,
Some but not all have made friends with and then
With them sleep with alone.
Emotionless the very act of slapping faces and the noise
That it makes, until the snow comes as winter fades.
Hate has pinned some down as those filled with love find release.
She has to sell it for food as one good man refuses to help,
Or as she drives by in the shadows he hides.
This makes it so by the love of the act filled to the brim,
As over and over love over flows.
I think you would I think we all would, I am to Young to know.