Fly Flying

I was watching a fly flying,

Listening to its buzzing buzz.

How quaint I thought this little fly,

How loudly I heard it buzzing by.

Wishing this fly would fly away.

Wishing this day would die away.

Suddenly the fly stopped flying,

And the buzz stopped buzzing.

I looked up and down,

I looked all around.

Until I noticed a peculiar plant,

Planted on the table’s top.

In this plant the fly was trying,

Trying, but failing at flying. 

Lured, it was, by a sticky fuzz,

And never again will it loudly buzz.

How silly I thought this little fly,

How sad I felt to say goodbye.

I wished that this fly would fly away,

And that this day would die away.

But now the fly is dying away, 

 And the day's no sooner flying away.

Now, like the fly, my thoughts too decay.

Now I’m wishing a fly would fly my way.

(b.m.)