my little friend who likes to ride piggyback

i have a friend who likes to ride

upon my back and shoulders.

he's little but i've tried to hide

him as i've gotten older.


his arms are tight around my neck,

which makes it hard to breathe.

his legs have locked around my chest,

so it's hard to see beneath.


during the day he's not so bad,

although he plays about.

he strokes my hair and makes me mad

when his fingers shh my mouth.


he acts, though, as a sort of charm,

surrounding me, an inky shield

from those who truly mean me harm.

for that, to him i'll always yield.


a lovely friend he is.

as loyal as can be.

he hides my eyes with his.

that's his one good quality.



at night he keeps me up.


at night he thinks it's fun to crawl

up and down between the sheets.

he drapes across me like a shawl



those eyes are all i see.


his mouth presses against my ear,

whispering me things,


things i never want to hear.


i'm glad he's here

but sometimes

i wish he'd just get tired;

he never sleeps.


the rapid rhythm of my heart

is what seems to keep him moving,

so stopping him would only start

a game i'd end up losing.

This poem is about: 
My family


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