The Grouch that Flew Away

In a can, hides a little hairy monster
that I never can
grow to love,
so I kicked the canister,
with it in there, rolling away;
but bless the thing, green -- obscene,
it sprouted colorful and shiny wings
and broke the tin;
sovereign -- imperial, celestial,
flying away ...

And here I watched it go.

Ergo, I stand alone.

I judge on what I see.

And not from what I could know.

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This is my style -- childish, musical, fantasy-like, psychedelic, etc.  :3