Best Mites Poems

The banker didn’t see me,
but I saw.
The bag behind the bush contained
everything.
Clothes. Food. Memories.
Everything that was left of an indigent life.
Forced to part with all their worldly possessions
for a moment,
perhaps to pee, perhaps to eat, perhaps to beg for widow’s mites,
someone had hidden the bag...

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The king of the oak mites thought 
he was all that, and was gloriously puffed up
Making the roaches laugh, and the leaves shake
Even the caterpillar queens made fun of his arrogance

The princess of the anthill got angry
She had fallen completely smitten under his self-promotion.
You are...

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