Bed Bugs

I was reading about Edgar Allan Poe, and I got inspired to write this somehow.

Midnight is not a time to weep or be dreary 

Nor ponder nor cheery

It’s a time to be asleep

So the bed bugs don’t creep

These bugs aren’t alive

They don’t bite you to strive 

They hide and they dive

Not in your blood but your brain

To make you strain in pain

But with no gain

And you’ll burst like champagne 

With a waterfall flowing out 

Yet it isn’t raging so you won’t shout 

But you want it out

So you’ll keep flowing 

And hoping 

That you don’t become a robot 

Because you say you’re fine 

But you know that you’re not

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Wow this is dark. I like, more please. This reminds me a little of those YouTube videos where someone goes into the doctor's office complaining about a boil or earache. The doctor pulls out his tools and proceeds to pull out some hideous overgrown insect or worm. Ew, just gross. Nice poem keep up the good work.

[Kaden L.]

Thank you.