This is just a mock poem base on the children’s book; Where’s Waldo. Spoken in the words of the man that is always hard to fine. It’s not good, but it was fun to write.
I am someone that will never be found.
Look if you may, but you’ll come back with nothing.
For I am the master of hiding, who is not even trying.
I could be out in the open . . .
Or in a costume.
I might be really old.
Or that kid eating ice-cream.
Animal?
A toy?
An automobile?
A plane?
Ever thought of maybe the other gander?
Maybe . . . or not.
For by my name, I am Waldo.
And your only thought is . . .
Where is Waldo?
Good question, my friends and fiends, good question.
Until the next haunt.
Oh, and quint your eyes under this word, you might be lucky!
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