DB (20.02.1988 / Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, UK)

The Little People

I see them
But they come from
They’re always
Wherever I go.

The Little People.

Always the same.
Bald and fat.
Always watching me.
Wherever I go.

The Little People.

I fear a rebellion soon.
They’re building an Army against us.
They’re waiting.
Till we’re old and slow.
Then they will rise in their masses.
Assume control, and make us even more miserable.
Wherever we go.

The Little People.

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Comments (2)

Ha! I want to wear the Seelie crown and rule all of fairie! We can invite all the little people to join us and have tea. This is a bright, funnny, quirky poem and I liked it... a lot. Now, who's for dancing under a midnight moon at a bonfire secreted in the nearest wooded glade?
can we dance under the midnight moon and drink clear midnight dew out of buttercups when they finally take over? and awaken in the morning to a seelie jamboree?