I wear hundreds of iron shoes, Yet never stray from paths I choose. Though no air I breathe, I groan and sigh, A steel serpent’s path, seen by fleeting eyes.

Whether baked or fried, I'm a delight. If you are hungry, ketchup and I would be in your appetite. Whether curly, salty, and even more, you might want a bite. Mashed or sliced, I'm great with burgers and might make you enticed.

You sit on this, and it doesn’t move, but it takes you from place to place.

You can draw it without paper, You can run it without shoes, It exhales a rising vapor And its warm embrace renews.

I am a lord under the earth, I am a dwarf above it. I have five icy children who, circled in my arms, I covet. I once shared my family’s title but have been stripped of my worth; discriminated by my size and position of my birth.