be warned there is blood in this poem (although i oppose the death sentence)

teensy tiny little bugs

take flight and he is

filled with fright

he who would climb mountains

just for the chance to leap

runs screaming from moths

flies and ladybugs yes

ladybugs dancing through air

he sees them

everywhere flying diving sorting

through air it doesn’t matter how

small or big or nearly dead they

already appear he sees them and


its a shriek really

and it curls my blood

there is no consoling

its bloody murder he’s out for

what if its just a daddy bug

trying to get home to his family

after a long day at work

kill it kill it kill it

he screams

and if i am to have peace

and peace is exactly what i need

than a flying bug murderer i’ll be

its the price for one simple night’s rest


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