The Wise Can Teach Themselves Poem by James McLain

Perhaps I have lived to simply,
where the wise, can teach themselves.
I have heard them speak, the mirrors show
their children have no hope.
Look at the sky I have wings I can fly.
High on long ago,
now it's time to pack it in teacher you have failed.
My cats my friend its soft and warm
it knows just when to hide.
Not long ago the evening spoke of night
you, you used to have.
You worried me I'm sorry I must go.
White the cotton has been picked is slung across
your back.
My tongue she sucks with full green lips
I'm shaking I need more.
In the woods it's very dark the trees are standing tall.
The bushes I have waded through the moss is everywhere.
Knee high grass is every where it's there I will be found.