I have a friend, her name is Jane
so much like me, but not the same,
and though her name is kind of plain
she likes to show off all the same.
There’s nothing I can do or say
to make her say that me she hates,
she knows my mind yet never strays,
both strong and sweet, the very same
as I could be, if not ashamed.
When I am scared she always stays
to keep the ghosts and ghouls at bay;
she sings till night becomes the day
and sunlight melts my tears away.
When I am hurt she takes my pain
and makes of it a crying game
to see how loudly I can wail
before my mom just gets all pale
and sends me back outside to play.
I have a friend, her name is Jane
I take her out to play a game;
she’d be the perfect pal, I say
if once she’d throw the ball my way.
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