The Snail

The Snail

Ours is a society obsessed with image. We are fed images of beautiful people and told that we must look like them to be successful. But it doesn’t matter what you look like if you’re genuine. A beautiful personality is far better than a beautiful body. But before I get too cheesy, here’s a poem about a very popular snail who, though slimy and disgusting, forges a very successful political career for himself.

The Snail

Who could fail to love it?
Who could not be charmed?
No man alive or dead and gone had ever met a snail thus armed
Each eye a glistening stalk
Oh, and listen to it talk

No match for it’s seduction
Drawn in by tender words
Now many men and women love it so completely it’s absurd
And nobody refuses
It’s hermaphroditic oozes

A snail with real charisma 
Who had an awesome brain
It slimed it’s way to Downing Street and made Great Britain great again
Such power in it’s shell
But the war to come was hell

The snail flew into battle
Armed only with it’s teeth
It’s softly spoken image gave no token of the wrath beneath
Til it was trodden on
And ‘sploosh’, the snail was gone




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