The Public In Not The Public Anymore Poem by James McLain

I as a child more than a dream, to decide.
Off of the path a wide moving stream, up and down
Near the door that for some, those more than some
adrift as with those less than some.

The world that is now not for those, afraid of the sun.
Knowledge not given to find in the soul, not seen in their eyes.
Way beyond what was once found to be found,
how it once was before.

High humidity combined with the heat, well, hour's on in,
seeing the great divide and the pain right before a few without
thought would kill for.
Incest, isolated pockets of nothing else but what animals
once fought for.

As if children to young, able to think past this nearly gone day,
unable to speak but that knows right from wrong.
To divide and conquer, pitting one point of view over the other,
just to buy time he never said.
Wondering why he, was before her allowed up there while knowing
that if left unchecked a death,
or (death's) would from 1609 up unto be still allowed.