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Ode to a Smashed Bug
May 1, 2017
There was a bug
Upon the floor
Its body like a stain
It did not move
Or stir an inch
But still I was afraid
It only sat
As still as stone
And stole away my breath
But what crime
Did it commit
That’s sentence for its death
© Tommy H., San Diego, CA
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I don't like to kill bugs, but I have a terrible and irrational fear of many of them. This poem came from 'shower thoughts' relating to that.