screeching
and scratching,
crunching poking
purposeful picking
and pestering
specifically the original
tormenting bug
teeming with bother
pleased with his gall
the smirk on his face
says it all
he lurks unnoticed
in the corner
near a wall
muttering words
while puttering 'round
others shrink away
from the sound
souls disappearing
and fearing
his nearing
a nar nettle
he is
and one day
he'll be
plagued
by the space
swelling to
a sizable, empty
periphery
with no one
left to irk
spinning in circles
becoming berserk
the fate of a jerk
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