The Car - Poem by James McLain
They come across me when i must,
why I came by,
knowing I need it more for my needs
as their woman folk....
stop their work, come out and listen.
By now I must know, even this,
where ever it is, that I go
and still like a child...
I expand even more my words concise.
They look at my hands,
They look in my eyes...
They look at my cloths,
They want to but they ask me not why.
Grasious is grace,
and please is just as polite...
I would not be there,
I have a need of them.
One stern look from their wife,
who is really in charge.
I show him what is really wrong.
I leave the part by her hand,
I turn around to go.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You