I often wander in the streets—

Pondering—who’s that figure behind me?

It’s black and a copycat!

But I’ll never catch it that fast.

Sometimes I try a surprise attack!

Tiptoe I go, lightly I go.

But boo! I turn around.

It’s gone! It slips into darkness again!

Sometimes I play IT with it.

I lure it into the light.

The faster I go, the faster it goes!

And poof! It slips into darkness again.

I wonder would it ever stop being childish.

It tickles my back, it pushes me too!

If it finds this funny, well I don’t.

It’s a trouble-maker? How I’m supposed to catch it?

But it comforts me at sad times.

It pats my back, it hugs me tight.

It lends me tissues from my back.

It’s a friend, in some black!

It’s a trouble-maker, a friend!

And when I wander in the streets—

I ponder—who’s that figure behind me?

But I’ll never catch it that fast.