Their sudden presence, makes you squeal,
This is a real story,
And it's about to get gory,
As I stir the contents of my coffee mug,
I'm caught in a sudden waist-down hug,
Just as I lodge an omlette in my mouth,
My baby ghost's face is next to mine, in a pout,
I step out of the shower,
And he's doing a little hover,
The nights are wild,
His baby voice, far from mild,
In competition with the steady humming of the a/c,
His steady flow of questions, as expansive as the sea,
When the natter stops,
By hopefully 9pm tops,
You know your day has officially ended,
Another day when your brain was bended,
In ways you didn't know it could bend,
But we've reach the end,
Of another day,
Tommorow, my baby ghost, will once again, have a lot to say.
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