I was born with a forehead of wrinkles,
And a beard of the ripest gray...
Each of my eyes wearily twinkles,
To welcome the visitors gay...
I am ageless, they say
I have been around for years,
My legs work tirelessly, bereft of choice.
I have also been deprived a voice.
My head is fixed at an awkward angle,
My jacket is a screaming green.
My characteristic shock of hair,
Is kept immaculately clean.
I help people re-connect with their past,
Their days of childhood glory.
When they had seen me move up and down...
Some say, I'm lucky, with not a worry
In my mind...others say they're sorry
That I probably feel bored...
Because I cannot participate in the Roar of the world.
