Poem Escargot

The angry snail

Such a bitter mollusk is he

Hates his pace
and his 
drag of a life

Never gets anyplace
fast enough
to satisfy
his impatient mood

Always running late
for snail appointments

Dreams of strong legs
that create great speed 

Meanwhile
back on planet Earth

Tis never wise to despise
the gift nature made

cause in the end

we all gotta
play the hand
we are dealt