The Cockroaches Of Sorrow
by Vito del Valle
There's a cockroach in my shoe,
There's a cockroach in my soup,
There's a cockroach in my juice,
There's a cockroach in my poop.
Like the plague of 1346,
Like the German Blitzkrieg,
Like the destitute during the Great Depression,
Like suicides during the Great Recession.
When will the sorrow end?
The sadness of the occupation,
Immune to extermination,
Laughing at elimination.
Note: On prompt, kinda. Just being silly. Poem #114 for the year.
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