My once pristine-white home
Has become a graveyard
of flies —
The stifling hot air
Snatched their iridescent wings as they tried.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 3:53 PM UTC
My once pristine-white home
Has become a graveyard
of flies —
The stifling hot air
Snatched their iridescent wings as they tried.
Request permission to use this poem