Randy McClave Poems
|1361.||The Scottish Dance||8/19/2012|
|1362.||Becoming A Man||7/4/2014|
|1363.||I Am My Father's Son||7/24/2009|
|1366.||Let's Build The Wall||2/26/2016|
|1369.||One More Round||12/18/2013|
|1370.||Knowing Of A Tree||7/27/2009|
|1374.||Two Sides To Every Story||1/13/2011|
|1376.||Bring Me Flowers||8/7/2009|
|1377.||Then He Cried||3/6/2018|
Comments about Randy McClave
Then He Cried
When he left his mother and the doctor spanked his hide
In that delivery room he then first cried,
But, that cry that he uttered so proudly and loud
Was a proclamation to all, that he'll make his mother proud.
As a young boy he and his mother walked hand in hand
She taught him that one day alone he must make his stand,
So, in defeat he would not ever give up, but again he would try
And not once ever in a loss, did he cry.
The man that he became was not crafted from a father or brother
It was from the desire and the love from his mother,
Now, the man ...
I Was Him
You never saw me as a prize,
But, you never looked into my eyes.
And while you were there eating,
My heart It was also beating.
You were lonely and was not dating,
I too was there waiting.
While your heart was looking for a whim,
I was him.
Randy L. McClave