"My" Imp

Not a "bad" morning. Typical really. Just exercising the Fool in my mind.

"My" Imp

It's natural to ponder where He may be.

This quiet mocking is being quite unkind.

It appears my Imp is out and running free.

I suppose Today wanted to lose it's mind.

I'm positive I locked every door, every cage.

Well, fairly certain. I was quite tired you see.

Regardless, I've no patience for It's rage.

It may seem foolish, but I've read the history.

No one needs an Imp-scented, Chaos of a morning.

Much like waking to find your feet misplaced.

Now Nonsense has no obligation of warning.

Try sipping coffee when He's hidden your face.

Pointless, really, trying to cobble up a day.

Tedious even starting while perched upon the ceiling.

Irrational doesn't even begin to describe His Play.

It's the complete absence of logic, but with feeling.

One may be tempted to crawl back into bed.

Leave thoughts of Madness to soothing oblivion.

But the silly b*****d has occupied your head.

The very definition of unrelenting contagion.

So fine.  I surrender.  I officially give it all up.

No point, really in even sparing it a thought.

You win my Imp, my child, my loving Puck.

You've conquered my morning.  Well done, well fought.