I looked around.
Me? A short, orange-skinned
green-haired singing little person?
If anything, I was the one wearing the hat
doing everything in halves
watching children eating my life.
No, I don't sing. I scare away
vermicious k'nids as they crawl into my space
telling me to SCRAM, but are obliterated in my atmosphere
However, when pressed to give a reply
to the nebulous question of the entirety
of my existence, squished into a few words, I said
"I'm a whangdoodle." The one creature
who is as undefined as the aliens in space
but is well-known to children who love stories.
This is my answer to my childhood.