A slug squirms down a road.
He is the slimiest of all creatures, the most despicable of all beings.
He does naught but trudge disgustingly on to nowhere,
excreting a trail of thick, grey sludge behind him.
He has no purpose but to sicken others,
no equitable place but that out of an outcast.
When others on this road have the misfortune of coming upon him,
they turn their heads in abhorrence, and rightfully so;
for the slug does nothing to hide his ignominy from the world.
How can a slug bear to look at himself? To know what he is?

A slug with a good heart;
That is me.