Thing's I Can Not Fix Poem by James McLain

The hardened heart, a fortress cold,
No warmth within, no hand to hold.
A rigid mind, like stone it stays,
Unyielding through unnumbered days.

The eyes that turn from beauty's grace,
Blind to the sky, the moon's soft face.
The trees that whisper, bushes sway,
Their emerald song fades into gray.

Your look, the storm within your eyes,
A tempest where no solace lies.
The way you think, a distant shore,
A world I cannot journey toward.

Though nature sings and reaches out,
You shun its voice, its joyful shout.
These are the things beyond my art,
To heal your mind or warm your heart.

But still, I'll plant a seed of care,
In hopes one day you'll find it there.