I hear the pitter patter of little feet inside my head;
the curly haired girl wanting something to be said.
I've learned if I ignore her; a tantrum she will throw;
Giving me a headache; she's a terror don't 'cha know.
Alright, go and spin your yarn; it's what you want to do;
the inner-child is loose; don't say I didn't warn you!
"Thank you ma'am, I've been cooped up way too long;
banging on your ear drums; with little feet so strong.
I will tell you all a story; one of my own making;
About a little girl; who owned the world for taking.
She was cute; so smart and curious to be sure;
imagination and quick wit; qualities that did allure.
Yes, I'll toot my own horn; for who better to than me?
I'm the girl that's spoken of; the one you cannot see.
So when SHE tells you stories; you'll know right away;
They came straight from me; memories of yesterday.
She takes all the credit and that's not fair at all…
Without her inner-child; her stories all would stall.
Ok kid, time you go back to sleep quiet inside my head;
You've said your piece, point taken; now time for bed!
"Ok, I'll go, but I'll be back folks; sooner than you think;
Or else I'll make her brain; my new rolling skating rink!"