Bullweavels
More menacing than a swarm of killer beesThey eat like locusts, without fear of death
They munch and crunch and crawl throughout
Whatever grainfield is nearby to desolation
So hunt, hunt, hunt, the bullweavels to their grave
Bullweavels
More menacing than a swarm of killer beesIf I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.
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