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