Sometimes we let a little thing
No larger than a midget's wing
Destroy a whole day's happiness.
We give it leeway, more or less,
And let it buzz and nip and sting
'Til one gets cross, and two get mad,
And three or four are hurt or sad...
And then next day on looking back,
We spy the microscopic beast, Alas! Alack!
Was that what started all the fuss--that mite?
We should have thought at least it was a hippopotamus!
Isn't this poem so true? We get upset over such little unimportant things! Let's keep this poem in mind next time.