
A metaphorical narrative poem about futility, serving mainly as crush-catharsis.
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Poetry/Angst - Words: 235 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 04-02-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3010181
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Last Laugh
Where's my tongue?
Asked the snake
Where's my tongue?
He weaved through the grass,
And came across a blotch of gray
He saw a forked tongue,
And darted forward
Shriek!
The mouse scurried into its hole,
Taking the forked tongue with it
The snake tried to follow,
But the burrow was too narrow
Sorry, this space is small,
too small for serpentine circumference
Hissed the mouse from the shadows
Was that a hiss or a squeak?
Asked the snake
You are a peculiar creature
Where is my tongue?
What wizardry have you cast?
Perhaps a hiss-y squeak,
Squalidly you surmise sorcery,
Still you may see what you've subsumed
What do you mean?
Asked the snake
I scoff at your stupidity
Sure, it's adequately ghastly,
So secure yourself a silph scope
The mouse laughed a squeaky laugh
I promise with all my heart,
If I shall ever catch you out of safety
I shall sink virulent green into red and gray
Snapped the serpent
But where is a snake's heart, but in his tongue?
The mouse laughed harder than before
Consummation isn't scored through
Surreptitious sensation,
Spears must softly sink before I shrivel
Striking a cyclops daily doesn't satisfy Aphrodite
Or help you see
A winged creature swooped down,
Clutching the snake in malevolent manus
It screeched and flew off
The mouse laughed harder than before
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