Tiny beings speak to me
Saying all sorts of lies,
Half truths, and occasionally,
Things I don't want to believe.

"why are you doing that?"

In the buzz of conversations
And rants, and lessons ignored
By unwilling listeners,
There's a sudden halt.

"Is he alright?"

The silence lasts for just a moment
Just long enough for the little things
To see if their host heard the muttering
Of the smallest of them all.

"You don't think..."

With some trepidation they
Start those engines up again,
Spreading the comfortable noise
Over their fear.

"That was close."

The little sprites have an inkling,
A vague terror that perhaps
If that tiny voice was to be heard
They'd be evicted.

"Fool."

So they rumble on,
Talking over each other,
Preparing for the next time
That the smallest voice, Reason, speaks.

There's a part of me I left with you
Tucked between some pages
I've been a little incomplete since

It's been so long

And despite there being so many parts
Just lying about
Of every color, every shape, size and weight,
Some being so close to the one I gave away,
None of them fit.

Not a single one

So I guess I'll have to find you
Ask politely for it back
Without knowing if you have it
Or if it's still intact.

Kept it safe

Did you know
Magellan never made it
Completely around the globe?
His ship did,
Kind of funny I suppose.
I'm beginning to feel
More like the ship
Than the man
That once captained it.

What happened?

It's all been said.
Every thing a person could possibly feel
Has been bottled up and spilled onto a page.
But there the monkey sits, still typing,
Still moving those words around.
Desperately trying to find something new.
It knows exactly what its doing, but
has yet to replicate what it saw.

You always thought
     the world wasn't fair;
                 That happiness came only
                      to the gullible.

I know it annoyed you
        when I knew exactly how
                          to make you laugh.

You couldn't stand it
         when I'd amuse you
                          so I might see the smile
                    that you so badly
                                     wanted to hide.

But that tired eyed
pessimist that
I once knew
                   seems to have found
                                  something more important,
                    something new.

And now that you're gone,
           It's like I have
chapped lips.

It hurts when I grin
           So I adopted
your scowl.

But if you were wrong,
        and the world can be fair;
              since I've got your frown,

I hope you've got my smile.