A letter to a sick child

There once was a little snail, That wondered why It didn't have a proper tail, She asked all those that passed her by If there might be a rather simple reason why. None proved to be that kind, Which put her in an awful bind, Until one fateful sunny day She met a hare along the way. My friend he said, looking awfully smug, A tail Is something others often tug, That's why I run faster than near most, Never resting coast to coast. You instead are blessed indeed, As you I know can get good sleep. With a house over your head, You're never far from that great bed. So even when you dont feel well, Isn’t it better than my hell?