Playing Mommy Poem by Ima Ryma

My Mommy left an open book,
Then she went to talk on her phone.
So I sat down to have a look,
And pretend the book was my own.
It would be fun to play grownup
Like Mommy was, and so I read
Page after page, like Mommy, yup,
Till all that reading hurt my head.
I did wonder why Mommy had
Thought reading this book would be fun.
I'd lost her place, would she be mad?
Well, she knows me - what's done is done!

I got bored when I found that there
Was not one picture anywhere.