The Poisoning Of The Well Poem by James McLain

James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By

The Poisoning Of The Well



I struggled up and out into a world
that I knew best.
This island full to full they trudge
on past.
Our futures just the same the water's not.
Of what use are our children to U.S. now?
While we slept it reached into our lives.
Look to each a stunted bush
their curled up leaves are brown, inside out.
How best if you were them to keep U.S. down?
I have no way to keep and store the acid rain.
No one wants your prayer's as children sleep.
Trusting them to test what we don't have.
Sir: I am poor and being poor, I cannot raise
my damaged child and hopeless now, I've more than one.
If I raise my fist, they'll just cut it off.
Thousands upon thousands of brain damaged children
will be placed in prison, their foster care.
Mind's once green now brown, will they even know the
price they unknown paid?
Hot does a poisoned person think?
The clock slows down and backwards wound and some
will never know for them it's now to late.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: green
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James McLain

James McLain

From Tampa Florida And Still Living Near By
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