BIZARRO SEUSS

you is what you is  
you can't shake it free  
you ain't what you ain't  
so you might as well be  

you can't slip the rope  
you can't break the chain  
you're stuck with yourself  
and there's no one to blame  
 
it's the way of genetics  
the wheel has been spun  
the dye has been cast  
the race has been won  
the winner's been named  
and you've got your prize --  
your mother's bad temper,  
your father's small eyes  
 
an uncanny likeness  
to poor old aunt claire  
you've tried weights and aerobics  
but that butt is still there  
 
the sun and the moon  
the psychologist's chair  
complaints about nose size  
and breast size and hair  
you're reading those books  
to put you at ease  
but read them or not  
you'll just do as you please  
 
so raise a glass high  
and toast yourself, girl,  
there's no one like you  
in this whole big ol' world