bringing death to the farmer with one small bite.
We like the farmer’s hut – it buzzes with life.
There’s the farmer, of course, his kids and his wife.
the caterpillars chew on the roof beams there,
while the geckoes, or lizards, roam everywhere.
There are lots of cockroaches, and always some cats
who pounce on the lizards and scare away rats.
All of us are busy – busy looking for food.
Sometimes we eat each other, which may seem rather crude.
But imagine yourself in that hut, and I bet
you would rather eat someone than find yourself et.
Now suddenly – zap! – there is no place to hide,
for they sprayed all the huts with insecticide.
That’s the end of our tale.
Postscriptum: we died.
