She was screaming and pulling on my shirt,
And looking desperate to be free.
I became embarrassed very easily,
From her childlike fears and needs.
I am not her mother,
But she pleads for me to be.
I just went on with my day.
For a time, she fades away.
Life seems normal and free.
But only because she hides,
Till the next time that she can plead.
There it goes again.
That pulling on my shirt.
If I keep ignoring, what will it do to her?
If I keep ignoring will I be the one that’s hurt?
I try sometimes.
To this there is proof.
For each time that she pulls at my shirt,
I get farther and farther from ignoring her,
And much less aloof.

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