When Toys Poem by James McLain

Unfortunately someone did not have any toys
In the forgotton childhood...hides my attic.

Ingaged, they now play with the other toys
between the wooden rails...ironwood is....

Butterfly wings stick together while others cry
pulling back the wind they fly not far apart....

Jack and Jill they have no other toys
some where In your lost childhood...

When hills had eyes I came back to say
When toys..........


T.G.