The Funny Little Firefly

Tucked away behind the shadowy tree was a funny little firefly.

She thought no one could see her if she fluttered quietly by herself.

She did not seek a mate,

Nor did she seek a deadly fate,

She had no light patterns, no beauteous trait,

Except that of maintaining her lonely state.

But one day, she saw another firefly,

That flew in circles around her tree,

Her light went on and off and on,

She seemed happy, she seemed free.

Now this scared the funny little firefly,

She felt so pointless, like she could die

And no one would even know she did,

Because through her life, she only hid.

And so decided the funny little firefly,

That she would suck it up and suck it in,

And make her own light patterns and beats,

And fly up and about,
To deep and within.

A Call to Death

The smile to his eyes--

In his smile, the fright forfeits,

In his eyes, it ages well,

And when he laughs, his wrinkled cheeks,

Lift his eyes in sweet dispel.

The eyes to his face--

The battles lost, he has forgone,

But lose he did, he did disgrace,

And when he laughs, his gaiety eyes,

Gleam forth from amid his face.

The face to his tears--

He holds his grief inside of him,

His face quells the fears he bore,

And when he cries, he sees that face,

Trapped within the tears he stores.

The tears to his smile--

He sits within the pool of tears,

And smiles for all that has become,

And when he cries, he laughs, he cries,

He laughs, he cries, and then succumbs.