Farewell Mr. Potato Head's scrotum
I regret never getting to know’d ‘im
As for his testosterone, tater twin tots
Here's a bouquet of forget-me-nots

I guess it's a sign of the times
That descriptors are labeled as crimes
Once mashed aren't we all just the same?
Those potato peel pronouns are to blame

Be forewarned when you pick up that spud
Not to name it Bob, Bill or Bud
Not a dude, nor a dame, nor a name
Should be part of any potato game

And be careful when you eat a potato
It might identify a fried green tomato
A half-baked assumption perhaps?
Your own judgement has suffered relapse

Dear Hasbro your wisdom is golden
To no gender should tubers beholden
Now away with the mustache and bonnet
And what else you might stick in or upon it

Beware every child living today
Know it's a dangerous game that you play
One misstep could rain down the reactions
When you commit imagination infractions