Fly

Just off the top of my head.

Ah the fly is in my eye,
The back drops
Falls into the sky,
There is nowhere to die
Just cry
And sigh
There isn’t much of a life
Without you my love
My turtle dove
High up above is where we meet
Among the pain
I must ask,
Are we sane?
It is such a shame
That we smile
After running through
Tacks, thorns, and cadavers for miles,
We steal smiles
And make them ours
We are the “lucky ones,”
But not really
Karma’s a bitch.