There is a tiny devil inside my mind.
Stroking my ego, telling me how clever I am
He is forgetting one thing.
I have looked into the darkness.
And wondered, what kind of devil lives inside his mind?
Is his ego stroked into believing
he is the best there is, no one above him?
Some days I see him in my mirror.
A dark cloud waiting to break.
That’s how I know the day goes.
Like thunderstorms inside my mind
Darker, when I must bite back my thoughts.
Not everyone would be ready to hear my opinion of them.
Growing up, I would be told,
keep your tongue between your teeth,
don’t let the devil out.
I have not managed to keep the devil down.
When he is telling me I am right
I can often put my foot in it.
The older I am, the smaller he appears to be.
The days less stormy, clouds part, I see the sun.
Yet I know he is waiting in the wings.
Ready with his gentle touch…
© Anita Dawes 2021