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The Fly and the Stars
He's standing on the edge of it all
Thinking of newspapers
And how he's gonna carry on
Got to make tracks
If he can
But without a destination
It's never easy
He's changed his name so many times
That he couldn't be himself
If he tried
But that's what he'll do
He feels a tickle on his neck
Goes to scratch and finds
A crippled fly
Crawling in confusion
Circling aimlessly
Until it walks onto his hand
He goes to crush it
But pauses, considering,
Changes his mind and lets it go
It falls, spinning
Spiralling all the way down
He assumes
He never sees it land
Because even as the stars above him
Shine, though perhaps long dead,
He's spreading his wings to meet them
magnificent work
up this one :*)