You put your head down,
Sitting near the edge,
Looking at the floor like you do.
While I guessed what you were thinking.
Thinking all the time,
Loving despondently.

I'm talking with my pen again,
It gives me time to think again.
It's all I do,
Over and over again.

When you're touching all those pieces,
What is it you think?
If your thoughts fell on those pieces,
Where would you find me?

Would I be a piece of sky,
Far away and blue.
Or a sturdy piece of cobblestone,
Always here for you.
Could I be the happy brook,
Roving through the earth,
Or the missing piece,
You overlook.

And where would I find you?
Would you be the tranquil pond,
Waiting on a rain.
Or the rooted tree unwavering,
In its ground to stay.
Could you be the rising sun,
Warming slowly on his way.
Or the missing piece,
I hide away.

These words are for you,
They're always for you.
And maybe you'll write something,
Or maybe you'll play something.
You may do nothing.
It matters not to me,
You know how I believe.
What's in my heart won't leave.
It's all I do,
Over and over,
Again.


Genevieve Hoskey
November, 2008