O Poppy! My Poppy!
O Poppy! My Poppy! The one who gave me life!
You guide me with a wisdom sharp as a serrated knife
I’m molded in the image that you rolled me in before
If I could be like you one day I would not ask for more
But O! Lo! Poppy, no!
Such daggers through my heart!
They say I’ll never fill your shoes
For I taste much too tart
O Poppy! My Poppy! It’s time I face the truth
My crust will never strike like yours upon a waiting tooth
Though I’m your seed I must concede I have none of my own
I waver from your flavor and can never be your clone
Yet Pop! O! This I’ll let go
Without one curse or damn
I’ll love the onions out of me
And be proud of who I am