Tell me, please, whom
I ought to thank,
Having come here not of my own will.
All life can seem like a sadistic prank,
Nor can I count the creatures I must kill.
Kids imagine witches, werewolves, ghosts.
Scientists see horrors every day:
Guests that eat the insides of their hosts;
Insects that cut up their living prey.
Viciousness can sometimes seem the main
Ingredient in this well-seasoned stew;
Nor can I live without inflicting pain,
Grace for which I guess I should thank