The Things I Didn’t See
By: J. J. Close


Friday morning all I saw were things I didn’t see,
Which is kind of crazy, but you’ll have to bear with me.
I walked downstairs to find my mama cutting daddy’s hair,
He was sleeping rather peacefully in his lazy chair.
She told me it was just a joke, and mama wasn’t mean,
And then she said I didn’t see what I’ve so clearly seen.

I went into the backyard to play fetch with our dog, Spike,
And then I saw our next door neighbor messing with a bike.
He flattened the back tire, then he looked at me and said,
I’d rather not ground my son, so I’m doing this instead.
He said that this was it; it was the last and final straw,
Then he told me that I didn’t see what I just clearly saw.

Back inside the house I saw my brother in his room,
He was spraying down the cat with some of mom’s perfume.
I looked at him jaw dropping and then he said to me,
“Becca, please just go away, there’s nothing here to see.”

I then went to the kitchen to see what grandma was cooking,
I must have caught her by surprise thinking no one was looking,
‘Cause as if to make us all believe her cookies were top-notch,
She was emptying two packages of chocolate butterscotch.
She told me that she sends her cookies to a special store,
Where they’re packaged and delivered to people door to door.
She said that it’s a secret and that I would break the law,
Unless of course I didn’t see what I clearly saw.

So I went up to my room thinking that I’ve had enough,
Wondering how it’s even possible to un-see all this stuff.
But when I finally got there I noticed something weird,
My dog was chewing up my shoes, or so it had appeared.
For when I told him what he did was very, very mean,
He barked at me as if to say “you saw not, what you’ve seen.”

© J. J. Close