Big ugly roach, upon the wall,
Quick get the raid,
Cause he must fall.
Big old roach scurrying away,
Quick get the raid,
He just can't stay.
He's behind the picture, on the wall,
I'll get him now,
With a toxic squall.
When the raid hits him, square on the back,
He writhes in agony,
With pain he's wracked.
Now he's twitching on the floor,
Another victim,
Of the insect wars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Kill it! Kill it quick before it breeds! My reaction exactly. I love the little peephole you show here of common daily life (common for all of us! I would like to imagine a world without cockroaches- it's mighty hard to do, lol) .