Them and us, yes, them, and us,
And then, was not to them
What was long thought of them.
Models seen, but not heard,
Really there.
Then there what of that, that one hears,
When leaving the body and coming back.
It was as if she, he though, thinking
To stop speaking back.
Three inch door's, thick and hot,
Was speaking to me.
Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem