A Fly On The Nose Poem by TEDDY MOSES

Its looks are of a weakly object,
But this I disagree and object.
My hands are soiled but my nose itches,
I cannot scratch and my tongue is short with inches.
It dances and spreads its dirt on me,
I cannot do anything, oh stupid me

My mind I jog in deep thought,
It actions are distasteful though it can’t be fought,
It pokes and chokes, forcing me to agree,
Though I know I will be filigree.
Because I will clean up I know,
And be clean with glow.

I hit it up with might and strength,
And bleed with pain in a seconds tenth,
It flies above and I can hear it laugh aloud,
It brings me bitterness and dawns on me a dark cloud,
I sit and nurse my nose, with fragile anger of course.

Now my hands are clean and tidy,
And I laugh and stare at the needy,
It squirms and buzzes begging for mercy,
And I reminisce its actions that were nasty,
It’s my turn to take revenge on this gnat,
But today I’ll be as hard as nut.

That was then, for I was with the mason,
I lost in plenty but gained the lesson,
I was young and hasty, tormented and torn,
But in patience and strife, the fly away was blown.
It was great and spiteful,
But now it begs, on my nose to stay.