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Poem

It knows what it’s doing
It is the thing that creeps me awake at night
It won’t let me sleep
It tosses, it tumbles, it can keep up a horrible fight

I want to talk about it, but it won’t let me
It holds my tongue
It guides my thoughts
It makes me talk, when I would rather just be
It makes me salty, then just shout it out!

It is my enemy, it is my friend
It works both sides, but it always wins
It will turn on you, it will guide you
It will stay till the end

It is like a mummy, kept under wraps
It is encapsulated, it’s enclosed
It folds, it turns, it curves, and loops
It is mushy and delicate, yet yearns to be free

It has been since inception
It has come a long way,
It is stronger than any other part of me
It commands everything, it dictates the order, and it dictates the flow
It needs a lot of work 
(Try telling it that!)

To specialize in it is of most delicate care
Not many know much about it, not many care
It goes on undetected, unseen, with very little care

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