By Izza fartmis - Casablanca
By Izza fartmis – Casablanca
Listen to me, Mr. President!
I’m a tiny fly and you a giant;
That is why you often seem
To well ignore my self-esteem.
Freedom has made me light;
Everywhere I take a little flight
Even to your own vast territory
That I leave with great victory.
Offsprings of mother-nature,
It’s to hold us both and nurture.
Yet, I know, dear Mr. President,
We’ re far more than different.
Even if you resent my company,
I can not resist your ceremony.
Your smell afar appeals to me,
And makes me feel simply free.
I resolve then to veer and land
On your fleshy, soft, tasty hand,
Have a supply or a sip then flee
Calmly unlike my peer noisy bee.
But before I manage to get fed,
You act, nearly striking me dead.
How many have you murdered
Just caught eating, red-handed?
Well, listen then carefully, boy!
Your hands can surely destroy;
Yet, my small wings also harm.
The same as your nasty, sly arm
Despite being just a little insect
My wings can affect and disinfect
So in power, we all have a share
On the land as well as in the air.
Hence, I go as far as I can reach
In the peak of your merry speech.
I set out my flight straight ahead
To rest on your damp forehead.
I must disturb your hot discourse
And this reminds you, of course,
Of your old victims’ sad demise;
Here you pout and let strain rise.
First, you try to shift me, to resist,
Then you hold up your angry fist.
But while you are on the move,
You find me stubborn to remove.
So your sweat runs like a mine
Your audience becomes mine.
Do they applaud me or fairly you
What they hear or they all view?
I feel thus good; rather powerful;
I‘ve had enough, I am quite full.
So long now, keep on your task!
Dare reveal all your ills or mask!
Simply said, dear Mr. President,
To nature never be such defiant!
And, saving, sir, your reverence,
Along with yours is my presence!
©Photo: Yassine Abouyaala
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