Day 4: Prosthetic Conscience

The prompt for day 4 was to “write a poem with a title drawn from one of these spaceship names”, with “these” referring to a list of spaceship names compiled from the books of Iain M. Banks, a Scottish science fiction writer.  There were a couple that I liked, so maybe one day I’ll go back and write poems for those ones too, but for now, here it is.

Prosthetic Conscience

She never wears white,
and she’s hardly an angel.
Bad hair days, early
coffee-less mornings after
late  danger-filled
nights, and lost books.

She’s my best friend, but I
hate her sometimes anyway.
Some days I wish she’d been there,
but others, I beg her to go away.

She’s obviously not on my
shoulder, though she may
as well have be, given
the time she spends
looking over it.
Still, there’s a comfort
in knowing she’ll be there,
whether I like it
or not.

Anyone else getting a “Harry’s talking about Hermione” feel from this….?


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