It’s a strange thought that maybe

People of all ages crave attention

To the point where they don’t care

Where it comes from

We’ve all hidden too cleverly

In a game of hide and seek

And stayed hidden too long

When our mother’s cries became

panicked and lost their soft edge

We stayed hidden just a minute longer

Relishing in something

The fear? The fresh knowledge

You’re worth something extraordinary

To somebody

Guilt is only secondary; an afterthought

The agreement to call back

To the mother and say

“Here! I’m here”

And then you’re praised for

Simply having kept yourself alive

Answering no matter the time

It took to do so