To End Suffering
A fly lay twitching,
Legs spasming and wings still
There on my paper
Slowly dying.
I slid my finger underneath him,
Lifted the small creature to my eye.
And yet he just twitched,
Silent but barely moving.
So I quietly smushed him
Between my forefinger and thumb;
He left a golden smear
Across my finger.
I placed his peaceful body on the windowsill,
And there he’ll rest
Til cleaning comes.
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