The Next Door Room Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

The Next Door Room



I was born and died because of you I lived.
The depth of beauty, but with you I could not read.
Trapped inside your hollow shallow moon.
When someone dies because I knew the truth.
Being one, living, dying, crying in next door room.

Friday, September 16, 2011
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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