Mice

How come the mice

All the cute ones with their furry little suits on

The gals and misters with their pretty little whiskers

All want to stay

What's with the mice

Are they Catholic with those families enough said

I confront them with a minimum of bloodshed

The Havahart way

But if you pull back

To some point

In the stratosphere

From that great height

Just like mice

We must all appear

Think of the mice

Always grateful when the slightest little crumb drops

Finding dinner in the dreadlocks of the dust mop

Never too proud

Maybe we should be more like mice

Not as noisy as a chipmunk or a squirrel

If they argue it's completely intramural

Never too loud

Maybe the mice

Have a lesson

To teach us all

Accepting with joy

Every kindness

However small