A
fly in the eye of my friend
“Irritable
little bugger”
He
cries, wiping at the lid.
Tugging
at the corner, flicking
Eye
to the sky,
A
hope to release.
Small
things can cause,
Pain
that is disproportional.
“Just
die, you damned fly.”
A
burst of fury and spittle,
Sprays
the passing tourists.
I
laugh, I can't help myself.
His
misery is so comical.
But
why should I,
Whilst
he, fly in eye
That
won't die,
Sit
quietly and try,
This
humour deny,
When
I'm bursting to cry ?
N.B. No flies were harmed during the writing of this poem, nor friends embarrassed by being named.
N.B. No flies were harmed during the writing of this poem, nor friends embarrassed by being named.
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