In the corners where I do not go

lies a heap of dust ***** green with mold.

Mother told me to sweep them out.

She doesn't know what they're about?

I poked then once

they snapped my stick,  teeth marks

not a little *****.

Someone has to know the truth;

not as long as Mother is under foot.

Mother calls me evil names;

she has her way to cause great shame.

She says I'm a **** for not getting the broom

after all this is her room.

I told her the ***** had very sharp teeth.

She says I am a liar and must be beat.

So, Mother just to show me grabbed them

with her hand;

lost all her fingers and couldn't stand.

They began to devour her legs, she screamed

and called me a devil's knave.

Now, Mother is gone all is well.

Me and the dust ***** get along just swell.