The Hedgehog

This cute little creature trundles along, He cannot speak, nor sing a song, He cannot run, for love nor dime, Nor decipher day from the nighttime. To labor the point, he can barely see, He only wishes to be free. He asks no money, nor food or drink, For he cannot like us think. A worm or two is all he seeks, He’ll forage alone, he’ll forage for weeks, And yet we poke him, just for fun, Laugh and joke once the deed is done. His spikes intrigue, we cannot help, The sad thing is he cannot yelp. He cannot cross the road in time, For we see the evidence of our crime. What has he done? He does not deserve, This precious creature, we must preserve. He cannot ask to let him be, But if not, the hedgehog, we may not see!