Fly On The Wall

Fly On The Wall short poem

Photo by vauvau


The pen picked a fight with the paper
The four walls looked on in disdain
The pen broke its nib in the caper
But inflicted a horrible stain

The pen lay there battered and broken
The paper had two big black eyes
No words were written or spoken
Which surely should be no surprise

The writer looked downcast and grim
Frustration now welling within
His chair creaked slightly beneath him
His head was beginning to spin

The fly on the wall remained silent
It offered no friendly advice
The scene on the desk had been violent
And the writer was paying the price

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Robert Haigh

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Hi, I'm Robert, an amateur singer-songwriter, musician, poet and photographer from England. I have been writing poetry for more than twenty years and I am a member of several on-line poetry sites. I hope you enjoy reading my work.
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Shirley B
Member

Hi Robert,
A pleasure to read, and deceptively difficult to write. Well done on your rhyme and metre, plus a gorgeous sprinkling of humour. Loved it.

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