dead fly on my roller blind
dragged into the light
there to find as I unwind
or draw back up at night
round as ripples on a pool
flattened by the wheel
spinning on the pole and spool
cured of real by reel
this had happened long before
and would repeat again
knock he might on heaven’s door
but here he will remain
like that movie, Groundhog Day
from his dream never wakes
rolling out and rolled away
reminded of mistakes
reflecting on this gruesome sight
I think of my life too
and perhaps explain it might
why I get deja-vous
someone, somewhere pulls a string
and once again I'm seen
life and death are the same thing
we're dead flies on a screen.
True story.
But we got a new blind.