Psychology Poem by James McLain

Is it not obvious to you, by now.
I was some place else, Out There.
A place where all milk, is tainted.
Being even among the simplest of 'Men'
You would know even that much of milk.
That my milk was for no one there,
but for the ground, their milk as well.
Except for those few,
whom were and always, shall remain.

We may not even speak from inside-the 'Bible'.
For they are still openly and despised, allegedly.

Later,
much, much later and you
knowing that and deep inside I
became your mind,
and I your soul.

I watched your lips,
open up like a vast cloud of butterflies.
Words I viewed as truthful latter became
I still remained yours naively,
and yes I was cold and needed a place
to sleep and eat.


My bud for but a bud
it was and a bud it is even
now a bud
so full and heavy.

Though the width
and girth a limb
You saw it grow and grow,
you knew.
My psychology,
was that of a bud and
being hidden away so long.
It could only strengthen.

There in that place.
Being a simple man and
but that,
of a bud my strength was yours to take.

Where even though copious rivers and
you bathed in them,
frequently and often, even showered.

Because you knew things,
I never knew.
Those other things you knew would happen.
I can't explain being such a simple man.

And your belly grew and grew and I liked it
for you made milk then,
and I but a bud, not understanding it, I drank.
And you fed me things, that even now I don't
understand,
which just increased your need to feed me more.