There are ten-quintillion insects
In the world, we estimate
Who deal daily with the fact
They’re objects of our hate.
They’ve never read a poem
And they’ve never seen a play
And we just go and murder them
As they go about their day.
Lots of people say things:
“Love your neighbor,” “Peace not war,”
But they don’t even bat an eye
When vacuuming their floor.
I think when we begin to care
For the welfare of bugs
Humanity will finally see
The real value of hugs.
The Daily Travesty 