The Child Who Follows Me Poem by Gillian Commerford

A have a child who follows me
she'd be pretty
except for her teeth
they're sharp and pointed, piranha-like
and I know she likes to bite.
Yet I have to make friends with her
because she won't leave me alone
besides I feel sorry for her
all on her own.
She doesn't want my pity
if I say: 'Ag shame'
she gives me a nip.
What do you do with such a child?
Its like taking an animal in-
in from the wild.
She sits beside me
and I see people stare
although she's neatly dressed
and I've combed her hair.
But something about her
{even when her mouth is closed}
makes people ill-at-ease.
It's as if they guess
she's impossible to please.
And yet I've grown fond of her
and her odd little ways.
I like to hear what she has to say
about the people we meet.
She's often quite shrewd
and correct
{although also often rude}.
So I've told her she can stay
and if people don't like her
and her ways that are rough-
well tough!