Where I Draw The Line Poem by Jim Yerman

I think of myself as a nonviolent person...I like all creatures great and small
I believe in living in peace and harmony with those that walk, swim, fly and crawl.

But the other day when reaching into my closet to pick out a shirt to wear
For a brief moment I felt something brush up against my hair.

Unperturbed I donned my shirt and as I was getting ready to leave
I was amazed to feel a roach on my arm then watched him crawl out my sleeve.

It's turning warmer in Florida and we all no what that means
Hotter days, more humidity and roaches in our jeans.

On most days I can live at peace with roaches...those sneaky evildoers
If they let me live in my house and they stay within their sewers.

It's a simple rule I like to follow...what's there's is there's...what's mine is mine.
But when they try on my shirts and sleep in my bed...that's where I draw the line

They show up in the oddest places...it's like they're made of vapor
The kitchen counter, the shower, the commode....I wonder, do they use toilet paper?

What's the protocol when they're in my house, if I smash them am I a sinner
Or do I buy them presents at Christmas and ask them to Thanksgiving dinner?

Of course not, that would be inviting misery, it would be a huge mistake
For roaches are not givers...all they do is take.

So I catch them and try to make them understand what terrible guests they've been
But while I'm counseling the one I caught...another twenty move in.

Since they don't listen to reason and they're not looking for absolution
I have but one alternative...to promote their execution.

So I kill them any way I can, a magazine, rolled up newspaper...my shoe
I know it's not very pacifistic but what's a man to do?

After all, when I find them in my car, at my parties, and sipping my red wine
Well...even a nonviolent person has got to draw the line.