Slithering is the sound I hate to hear
On the ground, perhaps everywhere
At the lake, I barely walk near
Hearing the snouts, I wouldn't dare
I love the sea but too scared to be a meal
Of the razor teeth gliders, ready to ****
I've stopped picking coconuts recently
As the buzzing hard-shelled falls on me willingly
Right when I thought to pick some flowers
There came charging angry little towers
Noon is when I sit outside with my hot tea
The silent blood suckers happen to be
Out from their dark little camps
I am really fed up of these stinging vamps!


©sim