The Beast that Came in Through the Window

“A poet I am not! My verses aren’t worth a piece of bread” (Rumi)

This however was a poem written in utter frustration in the middle of night!

The beast that came in through the window
attacked us last night as we slept
His fangs small and sharp pierced our skin in the dark
not caring how much we both bled.

The beast that came in through the window
cared nothing for man woman or child
He cared not for the old, the black or the white
only flesh he could see and the flesh he could bite

The beast that came in through the window
crawled under the sheets unannounced
His presence unknown till the breaking of dawn
when the havoc he’d reeked was exposed

The beast that comes in through the window
is unhindered by locks, doors or sprays
With precision and ease he swoops drinks and leaves
a sharp buzzing and general malaise

The beast that comes in uninvited
may also attack in the day
The airborne mass flies, he swoops and he dives
not a thought for the victim displayed

Try as we might to seek him despite
the panic and fear he invokes
That damn nasty creature escapes and alludes us
that louse, beast, that vermin

The mosquito


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