Ye hand me a banquet
But ye feed me none
Shrieking and laying
Yer spoiled hands
Upon my (surrendered)
Beaten back at my
Teeth's first bite.

My tongue's salivations
Go on wasted, ejected
With the first morsel
- O - delicious treat-
Through the air, far
From my aching belly.

O - woe - he gives me
A life with but one
Yearning - eight days
In which ye cannot
Grant me the peace to
Fulfill my desires.

How my hunger consumes
Me from the inside
-Until, with a swat of
Yer sluggish hands, ye
Coax me to fight for my
Life, meal forgotten.


Bitterly, I glare upon
My broken legs, smashed
Immobile on the table
By yer brutishness.
Bruised are my wings,
Gleaming violet through
My swollen irises - never
Again will they feel the
Warmth of heaven.

04/29/2005

Author's Note: Since I'm guessing only hardcore Biology students will get this, the drosophila (more specifically, the Drosophila melanogaster) is a fruit fly.

Posted on 05/03/2005
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