Inching By

Haven't put up a poem in forever so might as well put up the crappy one I did for Enlish 10 minutes ago .__.

The smallest creature on the ground:              

Bright, fluorescent, narrow, yet round.

Its muscles contract and then release,

Moving slowly under the fast rushing feet

Inch by inch.

 

Numerous obstacles block its path

Everyday, but it harbors no wrath.

Silently, sleepily, taking a break.

Its bliss? A leaf will its anger shake

Bit by bit.

 

Above is a species that wastes little time:

Hating to trash either minute or dime.

Stress and bitterness cloud their heads,

Never sparing a moment for kindness instead

Minute by minute.

 

Back to the fellow whose stuck in a pinch,

Its stumpy legs barely gaining an inch,

But it takes its time, with home in mind.

From its peaceful thoughts it’s never blind

Day by day.

 

Those busy ones might learn a thing

From the little one, and find what sings

In every moment the song of life

And begin to appreciate the end of strife

Inch by Inch.