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Fruit Flies
Five days like a century for a fruit fly
But only an hour for a man
As dying insects they do not notice
But know they are in vain;
Five days like growing carnations
Breathing while slowly rotting,
Vanishing away just like fruit flies
Which are blinded by the speed of time;
Five days with the aroma of haze,
No long living reptile can damage this beauty,
Only fruit flies matter -
Their presence adds to the misery;
Five days spent with a ticking heart,
Just like fruit flies are our hopes
Fading, dying, disappearing by every minute
But the idea of blooming carnations
Is looked for by every frustrated fruit fly;
Five days like a century for a fruit fly
They shall never notice
Their own essence being in vain.
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