They come in ones, they come in tens, With too many legs, or none again. Some wear hats, some breathe out flame, No two alike, yet all the same. They walk around, they do not speak, Their heads too round, their limbs too sleek. One falls in—and something grows, A bigger shape that no one knows. You made them strange, you let them roam, But now they want to leave their home. The hole is deep. The ground feels thin. Welcome to Humanity. Let the weird begin.
