Jester by Vocation

Think of me as a flitting fly;

I watch you with my ogling eye

From dusty corners and dank drains,

Always annoying–it remains

Your maddened wish to swat at me

And make the nasty nuisance flee,

But as you, saddened, quickly learn,

I stick to you at every turn,

For flies don’t go away with ease

Though you persist, and if you please,

Our lineage hews to this crime

Of stalking, to the end of time.