A Bug Named Jitters

A Bug Named Jitters long poem

Uploaded by Matt Decker

Once upon a rug,
Crawled an antsy bug.

This critter was in a dither.
He had a bud named Doug,
Who called him Jitters.

Doug was a go-getter,
While Jitters was a quitter.

This bug did not love
To act like a slug.
It was just
That his nerves often flittered.

“Can I plug ‘cross the rug
And not get smushed?
Why must this bug’s
Journey be so bitter?,”
Sounding like a zither,
Jitters asked Doug,
Who answered with a shrug.

“How can you lug
That smug look on your mug,
Like a contented Pug?,”
Asked Jitters to Doug,
Who, his heartstrings tugged,
Gave his bug-bud a hug.

“My dear friend Jitters,
I too am just a critter.
I’m not any fitter.

My bug life isn’t snug.
I too could get crushed
As I crawl upon the rug.

Danger is a heavy hitter.
With it this rug is littered.

I’m not super clever,
But in one thing I am better –
I won’t give in to the pressure,
The terror or whatever.
I will make a greater effort.

Am I fearless?
Not so much.
But I’ll try anyway
To cross this rug.”

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Matt Decker

Matt Decker

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am a former nonfiction/self-help author, having transitioned to writing fiction and poetry.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

Bambara Spider Named Sabali

Bambara Spider Named Sabali short poem

am flying very high from this earth, still a paranoid cloud, walking on earth fearing dirt. i admire the spider’s heart, it stays there longer than eyes sees it. survival is the main objective , which tends to fear it.

The Bug Life

The Bug Life short poem

Like the first light of the new sun, I wake in the dark, with new curiosities, and unanswered queries. Though uncertain, I work hard, bit by bit I pit the sand grains, In hope to find the new light, I

Bayou St. John Bug Bite Blues

Bayou St. John Bug Bite Blues short poem

Bold as bold and shimmering gold as the sunlight fights through humidity, stacking the layers of weather then dying black as holes, until you question whether they’re alive or just the blemishes of mis-laundering. A small constellation of flies rest

The Tale Of A Yard Bug

The Tale Of A Yard Bug prose poem

I did not hear the slightest sound, nor did I know if the insect had the ability to request assistance. But I am certain that he wanted out, and if he could speak a language understood by me, one word

A Baby Named Almost

A Baby Named Almost long poem

Something ominous and undefined, illustrative and versatile. Something ambiguous, and something so subtle it hardly exists. Almost is all these things and more. It occupies life around its every corner. It is the grey between the blacks and whites, The