And once again I find myself
crushed beneath the sole
of a size twelve, steel toed boot.
I am nothing to you
but an annoying insect
crawling across the ground.
I must be stopped,
smashed into bits,
before I make off with your heart.
How different would the world be
if so many annoying insects
weren't squashed?
How different would the world be
if you allowed me
to make off with your heart?