Who are these creatures I hear all about,
With a love and a care that is so devout,
Who can form a bond that will never fade out,
And will offer encouragement in times of doubt?

And what are these things that sound like me?
Our words seem similar when they decide to speak.
They have ears to hear, and eyes to see,
But do they have hopes and fears and dreams?

What is their purpose while living this life?
I've heard they spread joy, but only seen strife.
They can act like your brother, and then steal your wife,
and when suddenly provoked, most like to fight.

See, I've heard a lot of stories, about some good folks,
But I interpret them as blasphemy, lies, and jokes.
They could never be true, they must be a hoax,
'cause every tale ever told was as tall as an oak.

They all seem alike, they all seem so mean,
Are they the odd ones out, or would that be me?
I just want to live happy, and I want to live free,
But they seem to spark up, whenever I scream.

There's a certain pleasure they get, when they see you cringe,
They're on the edge of their seat, when your life hangs by a fringe.
They get a heart full of warmth, and a face full of grin,
Then they savor the moment, until they can seize it again.

To these fictional characters, I must commend,
They may seem helpful, but will hurt in the end.
Yet, I stay in search of one to defend,
The honor and duty of a lifelong friend.