By Nicholas Farrell
Such a marvel; they scurry and screech, much like a Mother- who freaks once under feet.
A dash, a dart- you barely see, just a glimpse and you judge to be.
A pest ready to plunder; but we all have needs, while you are governed by greatness and greed.
Kill- A simple sin; a thing we’re told, a primate’s win.
Defend- a noble dilemma, but who deems fit- when dominant no one questions it.
A squeak, a squeak- a sorry plea, that we hear and still refuse to leave be.
Is our existence so at risk- so shallow, that humble house-mice must often meet the gallows?
Are you so smart- above the beast? The facts are there, think of these at least.
Black plague! You repeat such extremes, but that was the gerbil and it’s them you give treats.
Such a small thing turns the house around; brooms and bats are quickly found, the kitchen now a battleground.
A curious child leaves his room; met by enthusiasm for its doom- what horror, as if a harmless thing was more than just a bother.
Cowering and cornered it cannot escape; but they caused this cruelty they call fate, the family accepts it- the two too small to debate.
Love. A simple plea, the boy bursts by and to his knees- begging and begging can’t it go free?
The Father falters; would rather not explain, all that effort and belief- a waste? To feel humor or shame- to dare dim the rule that reigns.
The mouse flees- for there is no valiant fight; how can it stand for what’s right, absent such godly might.
Thunder- his sibling strikes- so perfect a patron; ending a pest’s life, does what he’s told- so brave and bold.
Tears trickle by the boy’s face; brushed off as weakness, none meet his gaze- innocence to them but a phase.
He bites his lip; bad enough he bleeds- how befitting, as the bitter taste he takes sitting.
By Dawn he hadn’t slept; in silence he had wept, for he would rather not belong- than do what his brother had done.
So how does ignorance come to influence another? His heart now asunder- could there be a bigger blunder?
