Carpet Crawlers Poem by Pablo Cruise

Those carpet crawlers with their beady eyes and uncomplicated smiles
High on mother’s milk and applesauce
Mobile marauders with unseen orders
The center of their universe for all of us to spin

Those carpet crawlers with their sticky hands and unknowing eyes
Demanding what they already have
Spreading streams of tribulation to already frayed nerves
Drawing lines, who’s to cave again?

Those carpet crawlers with their spoiled scent and folded skin
Baiting us with unapologetic innocence
Remaining relevant with just a sound
When does the miracle begin?

Those carpet crawlers with their predictable habits and bowing legs
Beware of their clinging nature
Cultivating care like it was a commodity
Waging this war to win