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Brownies, Bogart's, or Borrowers within my halls,
  pitter patter of small shoes in my dusty walls,
I hear the ranting and mumbling of his voice echoing in my rooms,
The scraping of his small tools fill me with gloom,
the knocking, pounding, and banging at night make my nightmares come to life,
so if i was you, I would plaster and grout every small hole you find about,
for it is not a good thing to have a small being running about your things,
so save your frustrations about the tiny thing and call a exterminator and do the right thing.
Copyright Michael Robert triska March 2018 this poem was for a Saint Patty's Day DND game.

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