A short life, wasted


Stop!…the flies

buzz about my head,

sometimes landing close

to my ear…too close.

I cannot stand this,

this constant, pointless,

mindless

buzzing created by

these insects,

these boys,

who fail to

see the

point.

Flies live for only

one week; then it’s over,

this life

they have

wasted, accomplishing

nothing but a

robustly,

ever-increasing

buzzing sound, which they

perfect and polish over

the course of

this week-long

life.

They do this

for a specific reason;

to drown

out the sound

of their own

paralysing, all-consuming

fear;

fear of the

death, which barrels

towards

them…screaming,

sent by a God, who like

me, cannot stand

another

second,

witnessing this

merciless theft of

oxygen, from

those with something

worth living for,

and something

worthwhile

to

say.

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