Dead Poets Love Me Differently
One of her smiles hid great depression it is true.
by James McLain
Poe his works broad strokes his pen it knew.
Each succeeding Dali Llama drew inside their mind.
Sensitive each breath I breathing drew upon each find.
Sara with her wistful tease,
I love you when then was all the rage each student drew.
Sitting on each poets lap then discreetly laugh.
Unlike musicals and classics why they sleep.
Each poet draws a spark from life few keep.
Lincolns point of view self educated lots he changed for men.
John Wilks booth was such a little man.
To damn the mighty Mississippi.
In the end it's all we have to do,
is change our young as each perspective poet grew.