My dad once taped me a television series,
Animated, with magic, fantasy, witches and faries,
Okay perhaps I did play games,
These games of course had no names,
Where I was in an imaginary land,
I was only eight, you must understand.
Okay maybe I did watch it excessively,
My parents would naturally say obsessively,
But never once was I confused, between fantasy and reality.
Looking back years later, I must admit,
Yes, the misunderstanding was my own fault I submit,
Attention seeking prat that I was,
I allowed them to believe something that was not.
My mom and dad believing me obsessed,
Wiped alll the tapes of the show I possessed,
Years later I rediscovered some episodes,
These did I preserve out of nostalgia and sentimentalism,
Though I had sadly outgrown the whole series.
A year later, I had a new form teacher,
She was beautiful, with gorgeous features,
Her eyes a brilliant turquoise, her hair a light brown,
I wished I could give her my gold play crown,
Of course I didn't know what a crush was,
Yet I was aware, she is a teacher, old enough to be my mom.
I knew my over admiration,
Was inappropriate, though not without foundation,
So I quietly waited, and it eventually diminished,
Though not before I dressed a barbie doll as her,
Twisting it's hair up in a knot, and kissing it full on the lips.