Silently I glide 
Through the hallways of your mind
You are not aware of me
Yet I speak to you all the time
I spend my days gazing through
Two gelid optic orbs
A witness to your life

I am a scribe
A cataloguer of what is wrong and right
While you're asleep I sort
Through a myriad of facts and mess
I toss some out
And keep what I think is best

I file memories for you
To learn and grow on
Information fodder
To feed your psyche
And help you grow strong

Sometimes you listen
Yet more often you choose to ignore
My prophetic sounds of whispers

©Janine Daniel