This was a poem I wrote in an afternoon when I was challenged by my family to write a poem on a subject of their choosing by the end of our day out. They gave me the subject of 'Snakes' and I was to give them a poem by the end of our trip to 'Bird World' - irony undoubtedly intended. It's not been edited since that afternoon and I still kind of like it.
Snakes are Gits
Don't make the mistake,
Of trusting a snake,
Now don't get me wrong,
I'm a fan of the long,
And nowt makes me gladder,
Than a chat with an adder,
And I couldn't be fonder,
Of the giant anaconda,
But his ultimate goal,
Is to swallow you whole,
And a cobra's a creature,
Who'd happily eature,
And, did I mention,
A taipan's intention,
To pretend to befriend you,
Then bite you and end you?
So by all means do talk,
With our friends who don't walk,
But don't turn your back,
Or they'll make you their snack.
By Pete Thomas
Pete The Poet
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