Little Black Fly

Little Black Fly

A Poem by Ronda
"

This is about my daughters father and our constant struggle to play nice. I don't wish he was dead, though, just nicer.

"
 

You fly to my picnic,
and buzz around my head
I wave my hand at you
and wish that you were dead

Only to return again,
you bear no added shame
And now I ask you this question,
"Why must we play this game?"


© 2008 Ronda



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Reviews

How perfectly you've written this, though! Great job!

Posted 9 Years Ago


i like this...not just about flies...ahhh, i see it..
this is great..

Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on April 10, 2008

Author

Ronda
Ronda

AK



Writing
Gold Dredge #3 Gold Dredge #3

A Poem by Ronda



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