WARNING: This poem is not for the squeamish. If you have the fear of bugs like I, do not read this. This is a poem about my fear of bugs. Well, it's no EXACTLY a fear. I can hold a really cool butterfly or something like a grasshopper or a praying mantis, basically and colorful bug, but I hate bugs like water bugs and spiders. I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and there was a HUGE bug crawling on my arm... I trapped it in a cup and threw it out my window. I also HATE crushing bugs because I feel bad killing a living thing. That's why I put it in a cup. Okay, well, I have the fear of SOME bugs.
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