How simple it would be
If we were 12 years old
And to find me all you had to do was look
Sneaking back behind the rock
Frizzy blonde tousled hair
All obvious to your sear
You-an afficionado-ready to win your
sport and claim your princess prize
You say Peek-a-boo

Adue
It's not so simple
Since we're older
Seems I've been waiting
Weeks time behind the rock
Not destiny nor determination has
Willed you my direction.

I can hear you though off past the short distance
Waning in your precious luxury
Even with my foot near your domicile
You fail to find me hiding, sitting optative for you to bear arms and march
to me.

I whistle, you sigh
I peek out, you resign
and so there I die still waiting for your heart- YOU BLIND FOOL!
 
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