I know not from where I come,
I know not where I go.
But I like the muddy waters
And the filth where I grow.
A tiny egg it breaks up,
And a wriggler I become,
When I fly and flap my wings,
To you it’s just a hum.
When I suck your salty blood,
Oh, it feels so good!
What can I really do,
If this is my only food?
It’s true I spread some germs
And also some disease,
But that isn’t all my fault,
Note this, if you please.
If news is bad, just think, you
Should the messenger be dead?
Shouldn’t you exterminate
Plasmodium instead?
Didn’t God say to you
Thou shalt not kill?
Yet you’re always this
You kill our larvae still!
Or is it that other rule
You’re following through?
Do unto others
Before they do unto you.
There are on any beach
Less grains of tiny sands,
Than numbers of my species
Who’ve died from human hands.
We are now convinced:
That Man’s purpose here below
Is to kill all mosquitoes
By means fast and slow.
February 18, 2011
Spurts of Thought 