You are a lost welly in stuck in the squelchy, smelly bog.

You are  a minute water droplet going round the infinite loop of life.

You are you are a hiding mushroom waiting for Mario to unbox you.

You are a lonely, sleepy Rhino waiting for the human visitors to return to the zoo.

You are the citrus smell of lemons waiting to be dribbled over Shrove Tuesday pancakes

You are impossibilty of boling ice.

You are a slow sloth sliding amongst the branches of a rain forest tree.

You are the spooky shadow casting erie shapes in a solar eclipse.

You are the crashing crunch of the tree in the deserted forest.

You are the red ribbon of the finish of this poem.