The sun comes up
The sun goes down
Where the sun sits
On the earth’s daily round
Makes no difference
I still hear the sound

The buzzing
The flitting
The tiny wings flapping
They cause me great fear
Send anxiety lapping
Around my heart
And throat
And tongue
But their buzzing song
Must always be sung
And to my ears they sing along
While nipping
And tasting
In joyous throng

All my life
They’ve bothered me so
Piercing the skin
To the blood below
And drinking
Numbingly slow
Leaving me swollen
In agonizing throe

They escape before I go in for the kill
Unfortunately now
I know the drill
Bleeding still
This should be anything
But run-of-the-mill

The future holds my saving grace
In paradise
I’ll always have a smiling face
The cemetery is truly a quiet place
No sign of them there
Not even a trace

The dead don’t bleed
And neither do I
Whether six feet under
Or high in the sky
“No more biting!”
I finally sigh
Too bad it wasn’t the mosquito to die


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