The Worm Chief
When of all times has the generous worm become doctor of peace?
Has it considered the rough gravels along the path?
Or has it segmented body finds a fitting ground?
Maybe its boast of many mouths had concealed the flame lying nearby.
The worm Chief has outgrown its mother's laps
Now only the mother earth can rear her
When in known history has the head implored the feet?
Or demanded to walk for her?
In the giggle of importance has the worm forgot it role
Like a bird flying to a trap, it's hooked
Between being a meal or an object of ridicule
Pull out of your pride, oh ecomog chief
And till the ground for fertile plain
It is the owner of the body who knows where it ails
Can call a doctor for cure not a worm
For in the quest of being the generous worm
Do you become a meal for the quarrelsome bird
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Thank You Blockchain poet
Very well written and a powerful critique of misplaced pride and the importance of recognizing one's true role. Keep it up!
Thank You, I'm glad you appreciate the writing
This a profound reflection on the consequences of pride and the wisdom in knowing when to return to our roots. Keep up the good work!
That's right. That's one thing we need to understand in life
Knowing one’s role is critical in any project. Just as light is not needed during the daylight, a darkroom is useless in the night.
Nice piece here
Thank You, and you've nicely analyzed that