Miss Aguacate
Mr Pangolin holds her so dear
She is always there
Loyal and sincere
One day Pangolin asked
How are you not afraid
You’re so small and so fragile
From you, guacamole is made
Unable to see what she masked
Expecting unrequited faith
Mr Pangolin couldn’t understand
Security without scale or plate
Faith unanswered can be
Yet charming and resolute
She replied so aptly
Like only she could
Well its simple
Mister Pangolin
Little and soft I may be
But I have a tough skin
And deep inside me
Hidden, far away
There lies the source of my pith
That which gives me my sway
For an aguacate might be smashed
Mashed or mixed
The great pith we hold
To only us, is affixed
By hand, this pith wont break
Even your claw won’t do
But once broken
No artisan can make it anew
Suddenly mr Pangolin understood
Safe inside his hard scaley shell
How miss Aguacate
Was defended so well
A tough skin is nice
And scales too, protect
But not against vice
Only pith shields such threat
A virtue miss Aguacate already had
