He Talked to Things

He talked to things,
And the things talked back.
“Oh, there you are,”
He said to the Shirt
On the hook on the bathroom door.
“Oh, there you are,”
The Shirt said back.

“I’d like some tea,”
He said to the Pot.
“Of course you may,
I just need water
And some time for it to warm up.”
So he waited
And had his tea.

He asked the Chair
“How are you today?”
“Pull up a ‘me’
And then we can chat,”
Said the Chair with a wink and smile.
He laughed and thought
“I like that guy.”

But in the town
There were some people
Who didn’t like
That he talked to things.
“He’s odd, that one. He’s not like us.”
And whispers grew
And faces frowned.

“We’ll make him leave!”
The sheriff proclaimed.
“Clearly he’s not
Right in the head,
Talking to things all day and night.”
The town-folk cheered.
They hatched a plan.

They marched on down,
Right up to his house,
Banged on the door,
And shouted for him:
“Come out, come out: It’s time to go!
You’re not like us,
You talk to things!”

The man was scared
“Oh Door, my good friend
Can you stop them
From coming on in?”
“I’ll do my best, my dear old pal.”
The Door replied,
And tried its best.

But soon the mob
Were inside his house.
They grabbed the man
And they brought him out.
“You’re not like us” the people said,
“Those things don’t talk,
We can’t see them!”

But he grew calm,
And asked his neighbor:
“But can you see
The warmth from the sun?”
And the man asked the innkeeper
“Or the love of
Your family?”

“Are they not real,
Yet cannot be seen?”
And the crowd paused
And thought for a while.
“Yes, that’s true. All those things are real.
Perhaps we’re wrong,
He’s not so odd.”

And so they left
And didn’t fear that
He talked to things
And that things talked back.
“Well, that was close…” he said, relieved.
“A real close shave!”
The Razor said.

One thought on “He Talked to Things

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