That compliments me
That befriends me
That whispers in me
That encourages me
That discourages me
That commands me
That stops me
Sometimes
It waive my solitry
By being my dialogue mate
Sometimes
It preaches me
Changing me to a holy saint
Sometimes
It whispers in me
Making me like a rude barbarian
Sometimes
It imbibes hope in me
Transforming me to lion
Sometimes
It strikes fear in me
Making me scared like in war time
Sometimes
I maunder, wonder and
Ponder over these questions:
Is that thing part of me?
Is that thing another me?
Without it, will I be better or hotter?
3/1/2007
7: 50pm
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem