A cocky little crawler is the beetle on parade
his hardened shell dwells down upon his creepy little legs
and varnish smooth his body moves between the rocks and gnomes
he trundles over twigs and grass but skates on paving stones
then I really envy him, 'But why'? , I hear you say
for when his troubles get to much, he simply flys away.
Charles M. Moore
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-beetle/
