He is yellow,
That likes to show himself to people.
He sounds like a trombone.
That will come to you’re rescue
He smells good,
Like a blooming flower.
He tastes sweet,
Like a peace of bubble gum
That you don’t want to get rid of.
He is soft,
Just like your pillow.
He is kind,
He will gave you money if you need it.
He is like a tornado,
That you find out as he is passing by.
He is like a pig,
Who likes to eat but with class.
He is like a mountain rock,
You don’t know if he is hard or soft.
He is the son of music until he dies.
His dreams are
To be been happy for the rest of his life