NITIN RAMNATH - The Fly

Playing thy summer's play, O little fly
Ruthlessly my thoughtless hand, brush'd you away
Untiringly think whether I am a fly like thee
Doubting again if thou art a man like me
Enjoying the dance, I drink and sing
Not till some blind hand, brushes my wing
'Cause am I not, also a happy fly
Eventually I may live or I may die.

NITIN RAMNATH

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fly-8/