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Bugs In The System

Bugs in the carpet and bugs in the walls
A buzz in the kitchen, a chirp in the halls
Bugs in the garden, some chew up the farm
Some mere aggravation, others do harm.

Buggers with wings and six little legs
Buggers of loathing in a network of Megs
Some bugs they can sting, with hot formic acid
Some excrement sling to off-set the flaccid.

Termites they munch through wood walls and floors
Mantids they prey on nerves they can gnaw
The soul of a flea, Blake's monster portrayal
Is revealed on a screen, a verbal betrayal.

A virus online is a hazard unseen
But a bug in the system is wholly unclean
Insecticide proof and heartless it seems
A plague so aloof, corrupting our dreams.

This new hi-tech system for communication
Has gone to the dogs with contamination
For this new-world form of mental pollution
There's no way to fix- a final solution.

Bugs can't be cured, they are here to stay
Like a brute force of nature, no way to allay
Not something we want and nothing we need
Abstain from the game, to not let it breed.

(c) J.W. 2004.

Regards, Owl.

Witt, there are some bugs in this system all right. How do you cleanse them?
Georges

Geez, I hope this wasn't your 'swan song,' Witty ~ there will always be bugs everywhere! The finest and richest of gardens have them. You learn means of controlling them, or using them to your advantage. They can help enrich the soil, as well.

~ Lizzy