The Moth

I have a blog coming soon. Here's a poem I wrote a year and a half ago that is basically a true story. I mean something by it but I can't quite describe what that is to you. I guess I'll be a good postmodern and let you figure out what it means to you. I would like honest positive/negative feedback. It's very hard to judge your own stuff.

I do, btw, have stuff from my novel/apology of hell written but I can't get the first part right. It's very frustrating.



The Moth
Matthew Richey

I spied a moth resting upon the wall
I decided to kill her- no reason at all.
Into the water, innocent, I caused her to fall
Watching her struggle; her odds were small.

But it seemed so sad; senselessly to murder her!
What right I to decide she should swim?
That just because of some random whim,
She should die, but I the killer- the guilty- live

So I pulled her out from the water
Saved her life- I could not watch her die.
To call me her savior indeed would be a lie,
Because I never did see if she could still fly



















Moth picture found here