I swore to shield your precious eye, to block the dust that dares to fly, but oops, I slipped! Now here I dwell, a tiny ninja causing hell. You blink, you tear, you curse my name. Yet with every flutter, I’m the same.

I have four eyes that you surely can't Miss. But take them away and I sound like a lisp.

They say I drink milk, while really I don't. I stare outside like a statue, watching every move. I go to sleep but wake up at noon. I eat a fresh bowl of food, and I snooze.

I involve fingers, but not nails. You see me happen during Mistakes.

I'm an infrequent flier, I whistle as I climb ever higher, Out of breath, in a shower I expire. Keep me clear of dry areas so I don't cause a fire.