Immature Imagination

The story is a part of the time;
When I knew nothing, no crime.
The time when our house was a few decades old
Warm with compassion, not so cold.
When we had a two wheeler and a low-cost car;
My mind knew no desert but same old orange bar.

It was afternoon, my time to stretch;
Why should I sleep, what will I get.
My mom said, "Child you should sleep ";
Otherwise your mind will be heavy, you will weep.

"Look there, there is a man who takes away children who don't sleep",she was sure;
I saw a reddish-dark figure which appeared on the door,
opened eyes I did not keep;
telling myself not to weep;
within a moment here I sleep.

Years passed by, I was mature;
I went upto mom to find my cure.
I asked her,"What was that entity which on that afternoon appeared,
when there was no one, not atleast near."

"My son", she says, for she still cares;
"I pointed at nothing but the air."