Toys Poem by James McLain
Toys
My legs are are tanned.
I’m am too handsom.
She says I am delisious.
She says I am too sexy
She says she loves to hate me.
But my eyes are always shinny,
wet with tears.
I was never just a kid.
I know that I still am.
But I’m am her toy.
I am her boy
She is my mother
I am not her husband.
And still, I am her boy.
She has to many toys.
I make her look at me.
I beg her,
not to touch me, there then.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/24/2026 7:45:53 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
