The Fly
The Fly lurks around putrid matter
and delights in savouring human waste.
The dis-tasteful things we love to hate
satisfy his insatiable taste
for foul smelling things that are better
cast in the bin from our very sight.
He does not savour anything right,
he comes to dine without our request
for he is the most unpleasant guest
to find at the table when we feast.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (19 February 2007)
Added by Joseph C Ogbonna
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