Slide Upon Snails Poem by Frances M

Frances M

Frances M

Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents

Slide Upon Snails



We slip on the snails
Who we did not see
As we tread upon the tarmac
Absorbed in our own misery.

Crunch, a shell is broken
As rainfall patters down
But still we keep on walking
Wearing that stupid frown.

We slide upon the sludge
That seeps from broken life
It's only when we trip over
That we realise we are alive.

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Frances M

Frances M

Wales, the land of sheep and strange accents
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