Ra-Ca Poem by James McLain

Prefect and the publican.
I am not and you are still.
Hiding in the open, why I am.
Heeding naught,
your hands are always greedy open.
When it is raining,
and your feelings never, still I'm hot.
Bridges, open roads, upon them.
All, I am.
The strings you pull.
Trust and I can never touch, your mighty hem.
Late risers, early coming you, I am.
One shadows bright,
to each and every one he said, I saith naught.
Lips that move and words cast out.
My ears yours never heard and still my heart.