Beautiful, stout, really bulky, lazy buggers
Diamond patterned and there is that beautiful golden
Hood, no spectacles, but quite a long one
Often when I lie on my hammock
In the warm nights under the gentle moon
I hear the slither, I hear the leaves rattle, the nights feel alive
I have often been bitten, yet never poisoned, how unlike
Snakes that go by Russell's names have a bad reputation
Why last week when the diamond back bit
I looked back at its eyes, and it seemed so gentle
It withdrew its fangs, and slithered back slightly
As if it's bite borrowed some of my pain
Gentle creatures, so purposefully birthed
Knowing when to kill, when to pacify
Unlike those snakes, they speak of love
Then walk about, spewing venomous words
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