The Case Of The Calling Woods Poem by Ima Ryma

I hear the woods calling my name,
And so I go investigate,
Play Sherlock Holmes is a mind game
In which I oft participate.
Once in the woods I listen close
For the woods to give me a clue
By being a bit more verbose
On what the woods are trying to
Tell me on what I need to hear,
So that this case is solved by me.
But only breeze comes to my ear.
I can't be late for therapy.

I heard the woods calling my name.
My shrink will say my mom's to blame.