the mistake you make when you relate to the worm,
that useless old thing- leaching out pity
The Conqueror Worm- sad, tired, fifty
For though common ground is found now in your feelings
The worm has nothing to show for its dealings
And you have the chance yet to spin your cocoon
To transform yourself, success and growth yet to boon
The worm will compare you to it, but you'll see
That the worm only holds lovers back from their glee
And it finds an enemy in each comment or stare
Unreciprocated, because none of them care
And if you soon make it and you then spread your wings
The worm will latch on, so pathetic it clings
Exclaiming how happy you've found your success
Juxtaposed with how bitter it finds its duress
For this is the way of the worm, don't you see?
The spineless invertebrate loves misery
It is easier than measuring up like a man
Willing to drag the hell in whatever it can.