My mum has an obsession with flies at the minute. If one comes into the house, goes on the window, or crawls on the floor..........she is on a mission they have to go! She gets aggressive and agitated, it`s as though she thinks they are after her!! It`s quite funny to watch, but sad to realise what is happening. I am finding that the way I cope at the minute is to write poems and verse. Some sad, some humorous so I thought I`d share this one with you. It`s called the fly...........................
The fly
“Just leave the room and count to ten”
I say to myself again and again
Mums angry tantrums are getting worse
Which leads me now to write this verse
Where has she gone my mum of old
Her eyes look sad and oh so cold
Her voice is raised she shouts some more
Oh my god, my ears are sore
No fly is safe when mums around
There’s one on the window and one on the ground
she hates them all they`ll have to go
what have they done...I don`t know
I begin to laugh or else I`ll cry
Might even end up like the fly
But even through her eyes of hate
My mum still calls the fly..... her best mate
xxx
The fly
“Just leave the room and count to ten”
I say to myself again and again
Mums angry tantrums are getting worse
Which leads me now to write this verse
Where has she gone my mum of old
Her eyes look sad and oh so cold
Her voice is raised she shouts some more
Oh my god, my ears are sore
No fly is safe when mums around
There’s one on the window and one on the ground
she hates them all they`ll have to go
what have they done...I don`t know
I begin to laugh or else I`ll cry
Might even end up like the fly
But even through her eyes of hate
My mum still calls the fly..... her best mate
xxx
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