The Moth and Poems For Peaches

The Moth

The moth flies clumbsily to the light,
And having nothing better to do
I sit spanning time here tonight.
The cars drive by noisily,
The cigarettes taste the same.
But that little moth, he sings to me
A melancholy hymnal of distress,
And it went a little something like this:
"I came upon a night so dark,
Fraught with cool and cruel black
That when I saw the light so stark,
I knew there was no turning back."
Up to the light the little moth went
As I sat back and felt a grown man's lament.
I smiled wide as I rubbed my rough chin
As the smoke lay thick and the traffic got thin.
Well the moth flies clumbsily to the light
And the man sits uncomfortably night after night.
And having nothing better to do
They both span their time away;
One towards the light,
One towards decay.

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Peaches (Part 1)

Peaches,
I'm not at my best today.
The lightbulb burnt out in the bathroom,
The parking meter ran out during work.
I spilled soda on my pants at lunch.
The traffic took too long again,
And my bills are overdue.
I locked my keys in the truck
And your letter still isn't here,
And neither are you.