The Drought Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

The Drought



My eyes are red my skin is dry,
I must not ever cry.
Can I trust you once again to fly
High in the sky.

Hope is what she says it is while
Love is still alive.
A feather once I used to write a letter
To my wife.

Friday, September 6, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: green
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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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