The Old Maid - Poem by James McLain
Today on the bus I saw them.
To much all alone by themselves.
No one was willing to help,
except for a man like her by himself.
I saw a young child with a child.
While the face at the window knew better.
Younger than she, her older brother.
Not knowing what change was to come after.
All if not most to fat none would want them.
Where the youngest of age bore her young.
None having a man they could count on.
The death of one maid they have come from.
Comments about The Old Maid by James McLain
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You