I saw a
small black
bug,
looking at me.
It was a
flea.
It was round.
It was black.
Wasn't sure
where was
front
where was
back.

- If you don't
kill me,
I'll bite,
stand ready,
prepare for a
fight.

- I have no
quarrel
with you
shiny, round
thing.
Why do your
words
with such
anger
ring?

- I'm not
angry,
biting's
my right
if I win
I'll suck on
you
all night.

- Go away
pesky beast.

- I will
bite,
I like
blood,
I'll drink it
alright.

- Go away
I do not
want to kill.

- If I go,
I'll feast
on your
mom,
I'll feast
on your
son,
 I will,
it's my
job,
and its
fun.

- You're making
me angry,
you're making
me mad,
I'm seeing
red
in my
head.

- Do you think
if you talk
I'll go
for a walk?
I'll gnaw
and I'll bite.
Prepare
for a fight.



I smashed
it flat.
It was
dead,
a black
splotch
no butt
and
no head.
I was
free.
I felt
glad,
I felt
 sad.
I wasn't
sure
if I was
the me
I wanted
to be
I just
couldn't
make friends
with
that black
little flea.
Poetry