they never say much, or add to anything
But they're a great listener just the same
I talk of stupid things of no real import
Like what if sky was green and the grass blue
Would it change the way we see our world
Or how cool it is that my brightly colored pop tarts look more interesting under my blacklights
Little things that the mundane world lets slip
So we sit and banter and rave of the days events
Till dawn approachs and......
Are you talking to yourself again
really you should stop that sort of thing
And you've wasted yet another cup of coffee
Are you feeling alright, do you need to see your psychiatrist again
Are you even listening to me, its 5 am and time for bed....
Once again our conversation is rushed to a close
And a haze clears and the rooms the same
except for an empty chair and a cold cup of coffee
and my mother standing there next to me
obviously worrying over something
maybe if i talk with my friend i can understand my parents better.













