We fly unfettered, free before
Sweet scents of life allure,
A taste of honey’s all we seek
Then find an open door.
The nectar here is unsurpassed,
This room of glass, so neat!
More than the food, there’s ambience
That folk believe they need.
We’re trapped until we breathe our last,
Fall heavily and sigh,
It’s far too late to realise
There is no exit sign.
No comments:
Post a Comment