Who knew a pesky moth could be an inspiration. But then again, there’s a poem about a flea…
Moth On Glass
Sometimes I feel like a moth on glass.
I flap desperate and exhausted,
My freedom on the other side.
Green of grass,
But this cold, hardness keeps me from it.
My body bruised with banging,
My wings wild.
All I see is the other side…
And I miss the fact…
The window is open.