A little bug crawls on the floor,
It’s small, it’s harmless—nothing more.
But someone sees, their breath goes tight,
Their heart beats fast, filled with fright.
They grab a shoe, they raise it high,
With one hard smash, the bug must die.
Did it bite? Did it sting?
No one cares about such things.
Fear decides, no time to think,
Strike it down, make it sink.
Not all small things bring you pain,
But fear can turn the kind insane.
A soldier shakes, he draws his sword,
He sees a stranger—can’t risk a word.
A village burns, a war begins,
All because of fear within.
So tell me now, who’s the beast?
Who kills first, who finds peace?
Is it monsters in the dark?
Or the fear inside our hearts?
About the Creator
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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Compelling and original writing
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Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
A Dart at Dusk
Seconds ago, the sullen sun set on the two of us… my exuberant furry companion and me. A fresh breeze embraces us, delivering welcome relief from the day’s oppressive heat. His typical stumbling and staggering along — apace with a sloth — has turned into trip-trapping, high-stepping, almost skipping along.
By Angie the Archivist 📚🪶a day ago in Petlife
Comments (2)
Who knew a poem about a bug could expose the human condition so perfectly?
POV: You came for a poem about a bug but left questioning humanity.