Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
A Fly Is Dead
A fly is dead so let it sleep
with rigid body and crumbled feet
and though a pest inside my home,
does it not desire to be left alone,
a creature of little consistency
with the same right to live as me,
a raider I made him invading my space,
with a smack of the swatter ended his grace,
spiraling down it made a sound,
buzzing and rustling as it hit the ground,
its legs slowly began to writhe,
then in an instant it suddenly died,
for a moment I thought, "What have I done?"
as its body was glazed by the glow of the sun,
had I committed murder on this helpless bug
who only maybe was passing by,
suddenly emotions began to somber,
but then I remembered, it was only a fly.
Written by Blackwolf
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