“Yippee” said Gross in pure delight
To his mates assembled ‘round
“I think I smell a feast tonight,
We might be banquet-bound”.
“Now you wait here while I go scout
How this job should be approached”--
To go and search the venue out
Was the task for this cockroach.
He waited ‘till the lights went out
And every movement ceased,
Then crept inside and looked about--
What a mess on which to feast!!
He gave the call for all to come
To the kitchen with all haste;
The big and small squealed shouts of ‘yum’
As they tucked into the waste.
They fed on gravy, bits of steak,
Licked the scraps off knife and fork,
All gorged themselves on creamy cake,
Sucked the crackling of the pork.
Then having sampled glass and cup
Felt inclined to laugh and play
With bellies full they’d whoop it up
Until the break of day.
They’d race across the kitchen top,
High diving in the sink,
Belly flopping in the slop,
Greasy plates their skating rink.
Deft dodging in and out past scraps,
The pedal mostly floored
Burning rubber ‘round the traps
No way these guys were bored.
Too soon for them comes morning light,
Gross and his mates shoot through
To hide themselves from human sight
As all cockroaches do.
But know these guys are still at large
Ever waiting, biding time,
And Gross will always lead the charge
In the hunt for waste and grime.
A tidy kitchen beats his scheme,
(Dish washing should be banned)
Is put to flight by all hygiene,
The clean he cannot stand.
The moral of this little rhyme
Is keep your kitchen clean;
Without the lure of waste and grime
No cockroach will be seen.
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