Imaginary Friend

Once I was a little girl,
Living in a little world.
Sheltered from my fears and frights.
The light remained on at night.

When the dark creeped over me,
Fear was all that I could see.
One night that fear went away.
Full of relief, I did lay.

Why it went away? I know.
Because of a ghostly glow.
Fear left, and I gained a pal.
Yes, she was a spooky gal.

My friend she was made of bones,
And she spoke in eerie moans.
She kept he torso exposed,
Because she did not wear her clothes.

Towards my new pal others jeered.
I was ridiculed for years.
It shamed me from head-to-toe.
To the shadows she did go.

I forgot about her soon.
She escaped to her white moon.
I ignored her return pleas.
If only the cost was free.

Today, I found an old book.
I thought that I would have a look.
Inside, was me all alone.
Where was my friend made of bone?

I sat and went through every page.
Then, I got into a rage.
Where was she my good old friend,
Who I’d let my friends offend?

I became so furious,
But then I turned curious.
Was she really there at all?
My assurance was quite small.

My good old friend was pretend,
But our fun will have no end.
In my imagination,
She is kept from migration.

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