A fall season of population
Of companions fill the land
You can hear them in the corn
Since there is none, not in the sand
Hopping around we found one
Robust, stout and fun
We aptly name him Legstrong
Others of his kind don't compare
We built him a nice home
We put grass in for him to eat
But, he had no hair for us to comb
We thrilled him with sliding down a slide
We threw him into his highest flight
We held him and didn't understand why
His color was changing as if he was to die
We buried him in an unmarked vault
His exoskeleton all that will not rot
We had no clue what led to his doom
So our friend lies in Legstrong's tomb

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