The Journey

You slowly ooze
your sludgy head and foot
out of the hard yet fragile home
you carry on your back.

Eyes cautiously extend,
slimy feelers emerge and reach out
examining the air around:
all is still but the sun softly rising

so you start your long journey
across the walk in search of leafy greens.
Morning dew keeps you wet and content;
golden rays make your trail sparkle.

Thump, thump, the sidewalk shakes;
you feel the pounding getting closer.
A shadow overhead covers you in darkness,
and you crawl as fast as you can, but--

crrruuunnch

A jogger runs by, oblivious to your
shell now shattered on the ground--
guts glued inside, left behind,
your slime stuck to the bottom of his shoe.