Seeking to escape grim reality,
I pretended to be a vine,
Climbing and clinging to a strong oak
My weary tendrils did entwine,
With gladdened heart each morn I awoke,
Free of cares and woes, and life was fine
‘Round and ’round I twisted, embracing him,
To reach Heaven’s light was my goal,
Steadfast, and oh, so strong was my oak,
Gladly I let him take control,
Eagerly his strength I did invoke,
But soon, dark fears plagued and vexed my soul
My sheltering oak had grown tired of me,
He released me and down I fell,
It was then I yearned to be a rose
Of great beauty and fragrant smell,
Why this vain choice? only Heaven knows,
What folly, but how was I to tell!
Along came the bees, then the butterflies,
Quickly they drank my nectar dry,
Slowly I withered, then my head drooped,
The ingrates left me there to die;
O, to what wickedness they had stooped!
With lowered head, a worm I did spy
Calmly he laid upon the Earth’s bosom,
Then burrowed deep into the ground,
It opened its arms to welcome him,
And therein he dwelt, safe and sound;
Being covered by soil seemed so grim,
Yet worth the contentment he had found
‘That’s it! ‘ I cried, ‘I want to be a worm,
Hiding deep in my earthen lair,
Where soon I’ll forget reality
And the torment that drove me there! ‘
And no one will come to look for me,
They’ll just know I’m gone, and wonder where
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