The Dilemma

The buzzing is industrious,

I have never heard buzzing with such zest,

A wasp?

A fly?

A bee?

Some other buzzing insect unknown to me?

The volume does not cease,

This beast is trying to communicate,

And I get the sense it knows it's fate,

Unless someone or something hears it's death march by wing.

Curiosity takes hold of me,

And though I do not wish to get drawn in,

I find myself looking for the source behind the bathroom bin,

And I do not stop searching till,

I find it on the windowsill,

Its body fighting against a web,

Every movement tangling it more into the thread.

A small common housefly,

That knows it will die?

Does it see my face,

As I watch,

Telling it to pace itself,

Suggesting it slows down?

Does it frown, does it scream,

'Save me you stupid bitch,'

As I watch it twitch?

Then I clean my teeth,

Trying to pretend,

The message it is trying to send is not reaching me,

Just as I cannot bear the dilemma anymore,

I realise there is silence.

Deep down I do not care that the fly is dead

Has quit,

I'm just glad my dilemma died with it.