Friday, March 22, 2013

Moth to a Flame

Old poem I wrote. Enjoy

Well hello
Moth is my name
I flit, I fly
Don’t ask why
As I eat my cloth
And devour your lampshade
On my latest escapade
Ugly sister of Madame Butterfly

They say it is bad for you
It will kill
But I love the thrill
Maybe it will make me ill
Or maybe tired
Will I be unsure
Or wired
Or scared like a child running from a bee?

Oh the flame is so me
Dear Abby want some advice
I never met a vice
I didn’t like
I didn’t befriend
How does the story end in the land of pretend?
With my friends Tina, Mia and Jack?
Or will it be a stranger I have yet to meet?

I go towards the flame
The flame I admire
The demise I desire
Oh woe is me
Wired to die
But loving the thrill
The past times that make me high
The past time that will kill

The flame envelops me
Oh moonlight night
Death, silence, black
Darkness, howling, pain,
Loss, crying, dear mother
So sorry to go so soon
But wait, not dead
Ready to tackle another adventure

Fuck you Madame Butterfly

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Paperback available on Amazon and 877-Buy-Book
E-Book available on Kindle and Nook
Audiobook available on itunes and Audible this Spring
Portion of proceeds go to RAINN

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