Pest Poem by Amouta Stardancer

Blasted beast within my wall,
It nimbles, mutters, and it crawls,
About at night,
And mid day,
It seems only quiet,
When I am away.
It’s scritching, and scratching,
Keeps me up to all hours,
And it’s unkind suprises,
Present their own sours.
Damned pest,
I’d like thee best,
In fields fleeing my swift boot,
And despite this yet,
You trace out a bed,
In the ceiling just over my own.
And still do you follow me?
Straight into my pantry,
Where your evidence is quite clearly shown.
A trace of your here,
A turd of yours there,
And my cereal boxes bitten through.
The poisons untouched,
Those your mercy leaves for me,
And what a temptation
You make them.
But tis my own house,
And I’ll be damned,
To be put out,
By a wretch,
Small and stinking as a mouse.