poet-the fly
By zipzipzop
@zipzipzop (419)
China
May 13, 2007 8:55pm CST
Little fly
The summer's play
my thoughtless hand
has brushed away
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink and sing;
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath;
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
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