When I was young, I had a secret friend
That visited me as the day began
Then late in the afternoon, came again
Growing long and lean as dust rounds the bend

My secret friend disappeared with too much light
And always vanished into the night
To return at next day break, early and bright
My faithful companion, all right

Sometimes short and stout,
Sometimes long and stretched out
Mimicking my dress, my posture, my pout
Copying my actions, my gestures, my bounce

Always close, never far, sure to follow
It’s as if we’re attached at the hip though
We’re actually attached at the toe
Not my look-alike or silhouette, but my shadow