Poet In A Cotton Cell
J
James McLain
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Each day you ache
I am placed right there
by loving hands and tears.
Clutching though I am by you unto.
She meets the wind the world the sea.
Hidden under grassy shaded trees.
She seems to know no taste of fear.
Smiling I can see the moon at rest.
But they can't see my cloudy face.
I see their faces on the sea of doubt.
A love of childhood poets in a cotton cell.
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