At first I could only hear them; barely
No one else could, they thought I was crazy
My old man found me on my hands and knees
Head tilted, listening intently, searching
Everything moved and everything checked
A-HA, victory is mine; evidence
One small brown turd, proof I am sane.
I can still hear them, vile dirty vermin
I have gone to prepare for our battle
Glue traps, snap traps, cheese and peanut butter
Baited and set, now I sit in the dark and wait.
I can hear you scurrying and scratching
I pray for your death. SNAP-Ha, I win.
I felt the need for a lighthearted throwback poem.