When a moment's current seek the non observant.
The very name of a fly is to fly, but not this one for it shall die. Beneath the bitter rimmed glass and thickened honey, if the damned fool could just take some He'd fly to places filled with gold, but now he'll stay where his fate's been sold. Time will pass and he'll grow cold all cuz instinct uncontrolled. What possessed this move so bold? The perfect trap with just one snap, what a horrid con it's come upon.
A Cupped fly that so was blind with so much eyes left in demise. And with despise its muffled cries trapped in our lies with great disguise.
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A Mind's Collection of Poems
PoetryHey people of Wattpad! I'm brand new here and this is my first story. Each part is a different poem. These poems range from short little anecdotes to full fledged I tried my best poems.
