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.


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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