When I was a kid,
Whenever the word, 'Ouchy" was used, my mother would rush to my assistance.
At the age of three, I realized that every time I said that golden word, my mother would come.
So I decided to keep saying it.
I craved my mother's attention.
I would scream, "Ouchy" as if I had just lost a finger.
She would run to me and I would only smile.
"Only kidding* I would say.
But see, now I realize that that's gone.
It wont be coming back any time soon.
See because now I'm on my own.
I look out the window,
see how the sun and the moon revolve around each other.
like a budding friendship,
swayed by the moon,
where the sun is hot
and the moon is bright.
Just like the way my mom used to make me feel.
The more I've grown
the more I realize,
hell, I need my mother
Because now if I say Ouchy!
no one gives the slightest bit of a ****
When I was young,
when responsibilities where irrelevant,
when "ouchy" was my call-sign
I abused it. I abused that time.I used it for personal gain.
Now, I'm a nobody.
Doesn't feel good now that I'm an average citizen.
I have a story,
I used to tell my mother "ouchy" for her attention.
But so did the other hundred people behind me in the welfare line.  
Now, average faces in these average places are meaningless.
I walk the same streets I did when I was a kid, hand in hand with my mother.
With her, every pace seemed to be an adventure.
With her, every place was a new sight, even if I had been in the pizza shop a billion and one times.
So now I stand in the very same pizza shop
standing on the same tile floors
with the same smell of rising doe and pepperoni dancing in the air.
Walking in,
I wasn't paying attention and shoulder-checked the door
and felt myself whisper "Ouch"
Amazingly enough,
mom wasn't there.
She didn't **** out of the clouds, with an epic crash as she executed a perfect landing, her cape flowing in the wind.
No, instead, as a tear hit my cheek,
(because I did hit it hard)
No one even looked back.
Instead I just waltzed straight in.
Ordered my childhood favorite pizza
(pepperoni & mushrooms)
and took it home.
Couldn't help but to keep whispering, Ouchy, Ouchy
It felt so weird to say it again.  
Even weirder
To simply have no one respond
So this is just a weird way of saying
thanks mom, for covering my every ouchy
even if,
they *weren't real