THE FLY

Hovering and savoring the muck rotten by

 I am the humble, measly fly

Not much up above; and not the sky so high

I may be puny; yet I can fly

I wallow in the dung and I live in the filth

Yet, do not hoard up or crave for wealth

 Rotten and recycled; is the food I eat

Yet, I do not kill; I don’t cheat

I live in merry and freely breed

Yet I am no slave to master greed

I cherish the loo or a dirty plate

Yet I am not overwhelmed by morbid hate

I do not think, though I often stink

Yet, I do not push the world to the brink

So don’t judge me just by my insignificant size

Don’t judge me for my deeds and my innocent vice

For you are just me;  just a bigger me

Seeing life through some other compound eyes

You are no better!

You are no better in character nor in vice

 So see me with compassion

See me with compassionate eyes

For I’m the humble and measly fly

Who didn’t choose to; yet, still can fly

I am the humble, measly fly