There is a dead fly squashed on my screen
And when I hit him, he did not scream
His body is black; his sure has bled
But now! Bloody tiresome fly is dead.
His body is now completely flat
And for all concerned: That is that!
His tail is curled, and his legs are spread
But sure! This massive big fly is dead.
He just buzzed around, about my head
Until my temper, made me see red
I grasped a piece of pure virgin scrap
Gave that rotten fly a mighty slap.
No longer does he annoy my mind
For he has now joined his many kind
All that it is left to cause me stress
Is bloody blot that has made a mess.
Into the kitchen to get some scrap
Not one fly in the electric trap!
I return to work with nerves at slack
Oh God! Another big fly is back.