She Loved Him To Much Poem by James McLain
She Loved Him To Much
Nowhere is that look on his face,
she enjoys looking down at him.
Life is a constant rhythm.
Watching, slender forearms flexing
and blue veins that bulge.
Me, myself and I, alone we and the.
On the farm as,
We daily.
One time a day, two times a day,
except on Saturdays.
Everyday at the same time I say.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: green
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5/4/2024 8:37:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
