Flies And Men - Poem by Jonathan ROBIN
Why should not every fly deserve an epitaph,
distinctive niche retain to archive its descent
glorify each strain, decode genetic ascent,
to measure time thereby upon a six foot graph?
Why should each tail-less Man detail pathetic trace,
pollute the atmosphere with ashes, crush the grass
beneath a heavy bier, hard headstone where 'alas'
not R.I.P. aside sums up his tale of grace?
If life is chyrsalid between two karmic dreams
why care a tinker's curse for hearse or ashes spread,
or passing sigh rehearse, then in time's web all bed
sums all - kid, spell, sell, bid, knell, hid, hubbub's extremes.
Time flies with wings nor sect, nor insect may restrain,
rhyme sighs: 'Time's stings' respect, yet stay telomeres' strain.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about Flies And Men by Jonathan ROBIN
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.