Tiny parasites in the night,
Bed bugs come to take their bite.
Lurking deep in mattress seams,
They invade our quiet dreams.
Upon the skin, they leave their mark,
Little welts, red, raised, and stark.
A line or cluster they may form,
Itchy bumps, a biting swarm.
As we sleep, they come to feed,
Leaving us with wounds to heed.
Burning, itching, swelling there,
Scratched too much, we must beware.
Face and neck, arms and hands,
No skin is spared from their demands.
A darker center on each spot,
A calling card that they have sought.
Anti-itch creams soothe the skin,
Cold compresses cool within.
Clean the wounds with care and grace,
Avoid the urge to scratch the place.
Though they don't spread disease around,
Their presence can indeed confound.
To rid yourself, take up the fight,
Pest control can make things right.
So as you rest, keep watch tonight,
For tiny foes that creep from sight.
