Mrs. Potato Head wakes up in the morning

She thinks again about the warning

I gave to her so many poems ago

And I suppose her face just goes to show

No one really listens

When we tell them that they glisten

That's they're already beautiful

Before they go and lose control

Peel off her thin potato skin

And you will see what lies within

Is just what's inside of all of them:

Plastic dreams and potato mush