The Swatter

The Swatter

Last night I swatted a yellow wasp

On the curtain above my bed

He instantly disappeared from my view

So I assumed that he was dead

 

Not so

 

This morning I found him near the door

Mangled, wounded, but crawling

He was trying desperately to move outside

Despite his legs and bent wings were sprawling

 

He had spent the whole night struggling to simply survive

 

I knew his end, his ultimate demise

So once more I took the swatter

With significant might

Two swats to end his bitter fate

 

Now I feel like Hitler

Like Stalin

Like Mao

 

Why? You say,

It was just an insect

Just a nothing

One amongst the millions

 

Yes, that’s what Hitler, Stalin, and Mao

Said also

 

See life is just too intricate

Too beautiful

To be snuffed out because of fear

 

See, I was afraid of being hurt

I was afraid of experiencing pain

So therefore I exerted the power in my domain

To exterminate life

 

To terminate the wonders of biology

 

Now I wrestle with guilt, with shame

My theology is nothing but a cold, hard stone

I wonder what life would be if life could go on

With just a little admiration and a wonder.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Wow! This was an impactful read. Sometimes the realization of something so obvious remains hidden in plain sight. I really loved your poem 🙂

    Like

    1. Thanks so much Chandan! I’m glad you loved it. I enjoy writing poetry that sees deeper into the common things of life, so your comment was very encouraging. Thanks for taking the time to read my poem and to comment!

      Liked by 1 person

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