I am here little girl and I want your sugar.
Through compound eyes I looked at you. You are so large, clumsy and self-centred and I am called a pest.
I have wings, all of my kind do. Only some of you discovered an ability to fly.
I am resting on the fruits of Nature they call the fruits of they labour. What good would that labour do to them without the wholeness of Nature I am part of too?
You are waving after I slide through the air in that ridicules dance of hate and frustration. I am here because I am. It is the law, you fool.
We breed excessively too. It is not your exclusive right.
Those juices feed me just as they do feed your enormous organisms.
I am here little girl and I want your sugar.
A little bit to feed me, but I want to explore every part of it. I want to walk on it on more legs than you have.
You would feel no guilt if you smashed me, if you made a black-red smudge out of my body. I will be part of the soil again. So will you.
Walking on your skin is like walking on a dainty melon. You smell sweet. Exquisite.
Why are you so disturbed by my caressing?  
I’m sliding down you, ready to fly off. You are my runway. Be proud.
I am just like you, made from stardust.
We are partners in motion and we both have sweet tooth.
You may call me pest.
Still, I’m living, ******* the sweetness, flying and resting as and where I please.
I am here little girl and I want your sugar.