Sidewalk Hot Pocket (Worm Life)

If I was a worm, man, I wouldn’t last long,

Born wrong, built wrong, survival set to “gone.”

I’m dumb, squishy, slow, barely moving an inch,

One warm breeze and I’m cooked in a pinch.

Layin’ there stiff in my Cheeto curl pose,

Heat hits once and the whole show goes.

Cooked in the open like a Hot Pocket on the sidewalk,

Jerky on the pavement, can’t even walk.

Every crawl I try is a certified loss,

Nature watching like “kid, get tossed.”

I flop, I fry, I fail on repeat,

Evolution benched me — no elite.

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Every inch I move is a comedy bit,

Gravity laughing like “look at this shit.”

Life said thrive — but skipped over me,

I’m the clearance-rack worm nobody would free.

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Sidewalk Hot Pocket, sizzling slow,

Sunset turning me into microwaved woe.

Cheeto curl champion with nowhere to be,

Jerky on the pavement — tragic debris.

Sidewalk Hot Pocket, destiny baked,

Respawned wrong—biology mistake.

Ask if I’ll thrive? You know the plea:

I’m built fragile…

the budget version of me.

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Birds pass by like “nah, he’s done,”

Even predators know I’m no fun.

Rainstorm floods me, sunshine fries,

I’m worm roadkill under open skies.

Trip on a leaf? That’s a fatal quest,

Stumble on dirt? Man, give it a rest.

If brains were cash, I’d be in debt,

If toughness was skill, I ain’t learned it yet.

Kids with sticks start a whole new arc,

Season finale: “Worm vs Park.”

Every day’s a hazard, every crawl’s a plea,

I’m the tutorial boss nobody should be.

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Every path is danger, every inch a fight,

Even rainwater’s like “bro… goodnight.”

Universe laughing at my biography—

Featuring the worm… built at half quality.

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Sidewalk Hot Pocket, doomed on sight,

Cheeto curl folded, no will to fight.

Dumb, squishy, slow, curled up like debris,

I’m a worm-shaped L…

animated tragedy.

Jerky on the pavement, sizzling free,

Destiny roasting the cheap version of me.

Ask if I’ll make it? Look and see—

I’m nature’s typo…

a tragic lil’ me.

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