The War at Home
My home has been invaded
by beady little bugs.
I flick the light. They flee in fright
across the floors and rugs.
They hurry ‘hind the toilet.
They scurry ‘neath the sink.
They dart and dodge in my garage.
Those pesky pests! They stink!
I worry while I’m sleeping
they’ll wander into bed.
I keep my body buried deep
with covers o’er my head.
I’ll crush them if I catch them.
I hope I do, I wish,
for they inspire a deep desire
to squish and squish and squish.
