Genetic Accident

I’m a genetic accident,
I’m completely in a mess.
Till now its been a secret,
But it’s time that I confess.

My arms are where my ears should be,
Though sometimes it can be a menace.
I find it pretty handy,
When I’m playing table tennis.

If you’re wondering where my ears might be,
I’ll tell you if your ready.
They’ve settled on my sides,
They’re useful in any balancing act; they help to keep me steady.

Speaking of balancing, my eyes are a perfect example,
They both stand together on top of my head; one on top of the other.
I have to wear a tall top hat,
Or else my secrets others would discover.
But I’ve had little windows sown in,
So I can see where I’m going.

My left foot has changed places with my nose,
There are many stories I could tell.
When playing football in the park,
My nose runs and my foot smells.

How I got like this I really cannot say,
As they sealed my lips with a lock I’ll need to decode.
And If you were wondering how I told this story,
It’s easy I was blinking in Morse code.

by Sam Price

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