CRICKETS

we're all just like pinocchio
with crickets in our minds
that guide us on unsteady roads
when indecision blinds

sometimes a single chirping
other times vast raging choirs
that send us urgent messages
through our electric wires

they take our hands and lead us
till we reach a point, astute
and then in satisfaction
quiet down until they're mute

but life is never level
yet another hill you'll climb
and then those little crickets
once again begin their rhyme

i pity the poor person
who hears nothing there inside
they find themselves alone
because their crickets have all died