My friend, Sherla, was hard to see
for Mom and Dad, not me.
My imaginary friend was all I had.
I’m an only child, you see.
Most times Sherla was really good.
We did puzzles, read, and played.
We made our beds and cleaned our room
ALMOST every single day.
But sometimes Sherla spilled my milk,
sometimes she wrote on walls,
sometimes she told me not to come
when Mom and Daddy called.
I had to have a talk with her
about being a naughty kid,
cause I’m the one who got time out
for all the things she did.
It’s different now, I go to school
and I have friends everywhere.
Sherla doesn’t come here now
and I thought I she didn’t care.
Mom told me Sherla’s ‘special’
cause only I could see,
but now she lives with someone else
who needs her more than me.