Perspectives Poem by James McLain

As for us,
I am you, they are we when the other person is which.
Walking by,
I over hear which is which by which one always asked.
Repeated in order to I never understand it.

The point of view of this is how old style sanctioned,
steeped in foolishness and or displeasure.
As for one entire world to be wrong to the view which is asked and make from this hers or his.

Four eyes, you retard this one likes pain the other is a cutter.
Mummy why does that man wear a skirt,
is that woman with the beard and fingers longer than daddies,
really what out neighbors they said, be a man?

Son if kindliness, especially so it is, it never ages.
But age does to us who are not total.
Because as for kindness some never aged,
and those have it terribly and in the end never coming.

When I grow up I want to be kind, not cut off from the focus.
Mum whom has lived,
and their range it has cut off, no wonder I thought I might see.
The defect which is not from the womb but from the mind,
and the tongue that should feel more than that.

But age is not crime,
and the life where there is no shame can not erase.
Prudence makes us wasteful,
so there is a life which in larger numbers lack of kindness,
it makes being prudent always wasteful.