Wednesday, May 11, 2016

#micropoetry "The slug did his thing"

The slug moved on
a layer of slime.
And it didn't seem to bother him.

He didn't know he was a slug.
Everyone he associated with was a slug.

Why should being a slug bother him?
But no one liked all those he associated with.
And that was his problem--and their's too.

But he thought he was a good slug.
And those around him thought they were good slugs too.
Even though no one else did.

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