Peek-a-boo, I don’t see you
I wish you’d go away
You bother mom, you make her blue
Go bother someone else, please do.
When you come here
She’s sad and gloomy
And races around to find, who?
Not sure, but probably you.
And who are you, playing peek-a-boo
Keeping her awake most nights
She wrestles and hollers and tries to find
Little someone’s who stay on her mind.
So run away, and don’t come back
Your presence makes worried moments
Maybe new thoughts would come and stay
I’m hopeful, but doubt it’d turn out that way.
Copyright/ Sheila Grimes / September 2012