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How did I get Here,

Here in this Atmosphere,

Here on this Bed

Here under this Roof?

Did I arrive like the nursery rhyme said,

Dropped off by a bird? No that's just a ruse,

Because then I'd have big luscious angel wings

Besides, last time I flied I acquired a bruise.

Or if not a bird, then by car?

That can't be, I conclude no matter how I ponder,

For does a man-made vehicle keep me alive

Or give me this personality of which I call 'TSUNDERE'?

I was conceived from my mother's own womb,

At least that's what the clipboards say.

Even so, is that the explanation of why I am

Still here, in one piece, sound of heart and not yet gray?

Although this question of how I am here still puzzles and pricks,

I'll worry no longer, it's pointless to do so.

All I need to know is I am alive and useful

I am here, ready to grow.