Cicadas Poem by Lawerence Mize, Sr.

Cicadas in the morning
Cicadas in the night.
Flying and crawling
Everywhere in sight.

I washed my car
They flew into my hair.
Felt them crawling
It didn't seem fair.

The ground was covered
The steps were too
Bugs in the air
What can you do?

Leave them alone.
They'll soon go away.
Won't see another one
For many more days.

A nuisance they are
That's for sure.
If only they were tasty
We'd have our cure.

We could sweep them all up.
Fry up a good meal.
Then no one would think.
Cicadas were a bad deal.