The Indiscriminate

Butterfly on my window ledge, So still you lie. Did you know when you stopped to rest; You would never again fly, That silken wings that always carried you, Now so paper dry Would be clipped forever- That you had laid down to die? You have touched one with your passing Pretty insect as in peace you lie. Blue bottle,nasty thing on my ledge, So still you lie. Who cares that death has clipped your wings; That you no longer fly. Your ugly foreboding body Incessantly buzzing by Now stopped forever- When you made your last sigh. None will mourn your passing Yet in peace now you lie..... In life beauty and ugliness does compare So prejudice creates inequality. Discrimination can make of things unfair. With death there is no partiality.