Recycled or perhaps "Hey Bob, how ya doin'?"

     
If you see me, please do not stomp      
perhaps I'm just, out for a romp      
crawling around, down in the dirt      
searching out food, going to work      
     
for if you think, before you step      
crushing me flat, breaking my neck      
that it was he, who put me here      
being not meant, just be a smear      
     
possibly one's, Mom I may be      
flying about, flower to tree      
transferring pollen, for something to grow      
or out in the night, displaying my glow  
      
for if you believe, we all will be back  
please think of that first, before you just smack     
but if you just must, because I'm a pest      
do so in kindness, as I'm put to rest      
   
but if I am food, to be on some plate  
take me out quickly, do not hesitate  
if this is the case, I'm put here to be      
then eat me all up, so again I am free      
     
for I do believe, we'll be here once more  
up on a mountain, perhaps on a shore,    
out in an ocean, or waiting to rust  
we'll all come again, even if in just dust.