In

Came into the world quite backward
But you nailed the scene with a grin
Conceived by the pack in a Packard
And born on the day of your sin

Working for your turnips and your chard
Well kept the hand firmly within
The grocery sack of a slackard
Just keep your mitts off of the gin

Confused you found your life awkward
Continually trying to fit in
Street clogging plaque with a placard
As the world revolved ’round it’s spin

Standard