Little Beetle

Watch him go!

The silly thing

The pitiful, puny, ugly thing

Six grabbing

Appendages

Crawling up the table leg

The shadow of my finger

Chasing him

Scramble home, 

little bug,

Scurry home! 

With the crumb you came after

I wonder

Was it the morning brew

Did it wake him too?

Or the 5am tango

With early birds

Racing to work

Did his wife wake him

When the kids started to cry?

Or,

And I look at my finger

Did his brother die?

His son?

What there a 

Funeral in the crack in the wall

Is he late?

A family's struggle

Seem small in the eye

Of a worker bee

Like me

Who finds problems 

As easy

And small

As poking a bug

I can rid the hive

With the simple act

Of fingerprinting genocide

This little beetle

Must hurry home

Before my shadow

Meets the wood

Before I am 

Reminded that

My life alone 

Is infested with pests

That I flock towards the light

I scurry to run

From the shadow

Hovering 

Weighing down

On my shoulders

Hurry, brave beetle

Before I remember

How easy it is

To block out 

 

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