Phffft ~~~wiggling Worm Poem by James McLain

You trouble me O small worm
stuck in the clay of a broken
mold not enough of a mind
to fold over one end.
Being the thickness of one
and one half molecules thin.
Into my wood you crawl the
shrimp from your sea a
pitiful lot indeed
bored you are to lead me
astray into your cave l
like this hunting for treasure
never buried
never to be unearthed again
not by any whom see.
Smouldering in eternity this
pitiful flame.
Such a weenie of worm long found in your sheep.