PSPoem

"Chazzu," Robert Nelson, Sixth Grade, PS 122Q

Now, Chazzu may sound like a funny name,
But the matter gets tough
When you can´t hold onto someone you love.
He was small, loyal, cute and kind,
And was fond of others.
His legs were sticks that constantly trailed planks
And emitted a cracking noise.
His claws were tiny, sharp hands that had a tendency
To grab anything he desired.
His eyes were snakes that seemed to crawl to you,
But there weren´t slimy, pudgy or defective.
He loved to tickle the tight skin on your palm,
And he wanted to exchange shell privately,
All seemed well,
Until he never ceased to leave his shell.
I thought he was nervous, frightened, or afraid,
That something may take his place.
But that fear became mine
When I noticed an odor so strong and ocean-like
That i knew he had perished.
My cold fingers trace his dry, scaly body,
And I was overwhelmed with nausea and intimidation,
I wrap him up in a bag and threw him away, crying,
But Chazzu, my friend, my chum, my pal, my role model,
My only pet, a hermit crab,
Would never escape the jail that was my heart.