They slither around from place to place;
Hiding in the weeds; in the tall grass,
And behind the rocks.
They watch you as you plan, and plot;
Watch you as you work and grind;
Leaving you a sense of safety;
Looking back with blank eyes.
They hiss and slink closer to you while your mind is on other things.
They wait until you aren’t paying attention,
And then they steal your harvest; claiming it as their own.
You are left with the poison of their bite.
And you can only wonder how they got so close;
Without your knowledge;
Without you noticing.
But that’s the thing about snakes.
They are sneaky.
They can be laying right beside you,
And you wouldn’t know.
Because they don’t want you to know.
If you knew they were gazing from over yonder,
You would protect yourself.
You would protect your eggs.
And the snake would be powerless.
But most people don’t see them until it is too late.
Only the snake doesn’t know it is a snake.
It only knows how to be a snake.
So, you really can’t blame them.
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