Unlike birds of a feather, who flock together,
tortoise gatherings are not a pleasure.
They admit to always being spurned,
and never seem to be that concerned.
Surly and distant, and not easy to please,
they live alone under the trees.
Perhaps they have low self-esteem?
Never gracing the covers of magazines!
Slowly and carefully they dawdle along,
not even a whistle or a silly song.
Just a squeaky sound when they see a mate,
almost sprinting in a wobbly gait.
In lonesome pods, without a care,
antisocial reptiles, in protective gear.
Elusive hulks in patterned shells,
they don’t know each other very well!
Me thinks, inside they’re just squishy and soft,
to being mocked!