The Art Of Poetry Poem by James McLain

How after ten plus years of reading what I have read,
So elequently stated
In some kind of code the dreams that other's wrote.

To excape in a world of words in books now lost,
In the time it takes to open one and read till one forgets.
Reading of their regrets, their suicide's, unable to have
The people on their sides.

Of jumping ship and found no more an oven for the
One, my favorite.
These mind's they were like no other mind, the mind
That can't forget but hold no grudge.

Like a drop of rain when raining falls but then goes up,
To fall and leave a splash but no one's wet.
Those most special now we know, bi-polar, severe depression
And autism unknown then that caused such pain.

The brightest burned the quickest from both ends,
Alive today forever and of each we know today.
To find the light where none would look and leave
Us all again, when they were done.

The darkest night was not so dark when they were
Full of life.


Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017