The little voice inside my head,

My enemy, my very best friend.

My greatest fears and truest truths

The path to places I’ve never been too

A traveler wandering through strange new lands,

Whenever a stray thought enters my bands.

An empath who lives as others for me

To see how living like them could be.

It judges those who pass its way,

And admonishes me for passing judgements this way.

One who sympathizes when my anger flares

With the poor soul whose Wrath it bares.

The liar and dreamer and maker to boot,

When it speaks my thoughts become mute.

It holds my potential in the palm of its hand,

To crush or to guide to soar or be damned

It seems I’ve no control over the choices it makes,

Makes for me, all the time—just out of the blue!

But the little voice and me, we know that I do.

I can choose to listen when it tells me things,

And I can choose to act based on its tidings,

Or I can listen, and nod my head,