What wonder has a flower,
A daisy or a rose,
To the clueless human
As on its way it goes?
A work of nature, beautiful,
Is worth not but a glance
For what interest has a human
In the idle ways of plants?
But a very ugly flower
That can nauseate by sight,
That makes you want to kick a baby,
Draw attention that just might.
So when you see the spiders
Crawling from my bloodshot eyes
I seek your fondness and attention.
‘Twas not that so very wise?
The Daily Travesty 