Flies gathered around its tiny body,

Its feet turned toward the sky

As if preparing to continue the

Never-ending rat race among the clouds.

 

People walk past and turn up their noses.

The only good rat is a

Dead rat, but why?

 

They exist just like us, their little hearts

Pumping just as fast as ours.

They scurry from place to place, ducking between

Giant metal behemoths in pursuit

Of a noble quest they will never fulfil.

 

They love like we do;

They love their family and friends.

Hell, they might even have jobs like us

And our everlasting 9-5 workdays.

 

Yes, they’re rodents and inherently inferior

But we all know

The rat did not deserve to die.

Neither do you or I.