chayamsu v r - freedom

every man has his own flies,
every man has his own ways.
he can hunt and kill his flies,
for their bright and humming flights,
once and twice in graceful glides,
skimmed and chirped in the void of skies.
men were there to wait and trap,
grow and kill them by a clap.

chayamsu v r

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/freedom-213/