The Flea-Bite Song Poem by Patti Masterman
The Flea-Bite Song
I can't tell if any fleas
Have smaller fleas upon them;
But I can feel that on these fleas
Are giant jaws; and toothsome.
These fleas are opportunists, sure,
They hop from leg, to arm, to floor;
Each leaves behind a bit of gore:
There's nothing smaller I abhor.
They're nearly invisible and yet
Upon me I can feel them set;
And tear out great big chunks of- Nyet!
A bigger fiend, I've never met.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 11:23:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
