Sonnet 43, Everything, Is Someone Else’s... Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Everything, is someone's else teachings wise,
Like the colours, people lent themselves to be;
Just to fit more precisely and to see,
The blending of the pigments, and its highs.
But then there is this sudden hidden surprise:
That there is a forest beyond, that one tree,
Perhaps wildlife, there's all about being free
And everything else before, just pure lies.
The teacher was a joker in fine dress,
The ordinary pupil looked up to:
To take decisions for him, to be more precise,
But sometimes teaching like this, are far less
Than be awakened, by the story due:
That man is always more, than any mice.