PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have never spoken one word to it.

Nor it to me; no smile, no gesture.

Maybe it is that I simply have not listened.

I cannot say, but perhaps I'll try.

If it changed would I notice?

It follows me everywhere.

Wherever I go it dances around me.  

I rarely glance, still it circles unceaslingly. 

It accompanies me always.

Yet I've given it no name, no sound to call it by.

Why does it follow, will it ever act or simply lurk?

It darts about, chasing, hiding, growing, shrinking.

But it never acts, never grasps, never speaks.

It must have desires, it must have thoughts.

It must want to shout.

What purpose does it serve, why is it here?

This most silent observer, what has it seen?

What would it say of me?

How many like it have I passed unaware?

What am I to it?