Will-He? Poem by Tom Courtney

Will-he? Lives inside my head
And so he joins me in my bed
He rises when it's time for me
And I see him and he sees me

Will-he? Is my own best friend
I talk with him to heal and mend
He never knows what I will say
Because I change from night to day

And Will-he? Is my counselor
He listens long, and I’m a bore
But will-he? ’s right there in my lane
I spew and spout like I’m insane

And Will-he? Listens calms me down
He tells me not to wear my frown
He tells me what I need to know
So I can make a proper show

If not for him, I’d jump the ship
I'd slide and fall, I’d step and slip
I'd rave and rant and fulminate
I’d vent my spleen and spout my hate

It’s good to have my friend inside
A place where I can go and hide
Someone that I can complain to
When I’m beat up all black and blue

And Will-he? ’s nice he speaks to me
He stands guard of my sanity
When I’m distraught, can't stand the strain
Will-he's there, my upper brain

Cerebral cortex, his real name
Of dielectric, phospholipid fame
But I’d feel sad, you think it’s silly?
I just prefer to call him Will-he?