Title: A Child's Muse (for lack of a better title)

Author: The Pocky Lover

Rating: K / G

Summary: "I got to know him better while you weren't looking. He reminds me of the father you say I once had. I bet if Father were alive, he wouldn't be much different from this man."

Author's Notes: This isn't exactly a poem… I'm not good at writing poetry. Consider it a 'musing,' if you will. Pairing category… Ann/Jack, of course, but neither of them is the narrator.

Disclaimer: I don't own King Kong. So there. Don't sue me. I'm dead poor anyway.

I played by the swings in the crowded park,

Just like every other day,

As you sat there and watched me.

But you weren't the only one watching me.

Someone else was watching too.

He sat afar so you wouldn't see.

But I could see.

I wondered why he kept looking at the both of us?

Have you ever met him, Mother?

He always looked at you often,

As if you were a precious gift long lost.

I got to know him better,

While you weren't looking.

He reminds me so much,

Of the father you say I once had.

I bet if Father were still alive…

He wouldn't be much different from this man.

He's a writer, you see.

He writes plays, just like Father used to.

I always see him with a typewriter nearby.

I once tried to take it for myself, you know.

I've always wondered what it'd be like to write a play.

I've always wanted to do what Father enjoyed the most.

I can't help but see him as a father figure,

This Mister Jack Driscoll…

He's so much like the father I never had.

I saw your encounter with him.

The look of recognition in your eyes,

And the look of longing on his own face,

Further puzzled me.

Have you ever met him before, Mother?

He's a really nice man, isn't he?

But perhaps I'm wrong… maybe he isn't.

The two of you were arguing.

You were upset.

He left.

I didn't catch either of your words.

I still wonder what the argument was about.

On my birthday he showed up,

Just as he promised he would.

I invited him, you see.

I knew you didn't get along with him,

But he was a friend to me.

I found him to be very interesting.

I feel so close and attached to him,

And it's only been a few months since we first met.

I wonder why?

I'm going to see him again, aren't I?

My birthday's passed and I haven't seen him since then.

I can't help it.

I miss him and his fingers typing away on his typewriter as usual.

There's something he knows.

He found out something.

You told him a secret, didn't you?

He seemed upset when he left my birthday party.

I noticed the way he looked at me then,

As if he were seeing me for the first time,

In a very new and different light.

Yet before he left,

I noticed the hidden, soft smile playing on his lips.

It was directed towards me.

I smiled back.

But I was also confused.

I have yet to see him again.

You told him a secret, didn't you?

Will I see him again?

He seemed upset.

What did you tell him?

What?

More Author's Notes:

"What did you tell him?" Well, I think the answer's very obvious. This is something I came up with during the night, based on a story I'm still working on and have yet to post. Hope it wasn't too confusing. Feedback will be greatly appreciated.