Judge, When Driven Too It Poem by James McLain

Was it, is it then?
Having prior knowledge.
My psycology.
Hers as well.
Substituting poor judgement.
For that which was not,
even before I was, and still is.
When once it never was, it wasn't.
Thin lines drawn by thee.
The hot sand whom percieved.
The other whom is then isn't.
Is there still time?
And where is the bottle now.
When by you,
I am driven like she is too it.
Do not again, lie thee down.
Having drunk from the mellon of she.