Bug Collector

Brush off your ant bites.
Blind eye the hornets sting.

Gone so long with ways of violence.
Creatures having done nothing wrong.

But it’s fine “they aren’t important”.
Legs or wings or hair you just can’t bare.

Squash and flush because no voice.
If it spoke would you still fear?

Darling child with bugs in jars,
May your care linger on and on my dear.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace