A Fly


What do you call a fly that cannot fly?
A flightless fly in need?
Or a sunny seed that cannot seed?
A sorry seed indeed?

If you strip away our meaning,
Our freedom and our grace…
Do we sit and wait for something…
Just stare death in the face?

But a flightless fly does not die,
Nor sit around and wait.
For a flightless fly carries on,
Unaware of fate.

If you strip away the feeling,
The mortality and time…
We won’t wait forever thinking…
But live life at its prime.

So the sorry seed is silent,
Not ignorant in life…
But waiting for its meaning…
Searching soundly in strife.

The End

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