The Moth

When I got home earier today, I saw a small moth on the wet ground, his wings were wet, sort of pinned to the pavement..his legs were kicking, he just wanted to get up and fly again.
Now, in my experience I've killed a ton of bugs....but this time I could see that this guy was just trying to get back on his feet....he struggled and struggled...so I tried help him, I tried flicking him over to the dry side of the pavement...but he still struggled, his wings were still wet...I knew that if you try wipe a butterfy's wings, they'll never fly again...so much so with a moth. I found it odd that I was so riveted on this poor little thing. Perhaps I saw his struggle as a reflection of my own, as I struggle to 'fly' again.
"Come on...come on buddy! you can do it!" I tried propping him up but the poor thing's legs kicked for the last time, and he died....
The poor little moth...I felt sorry for it.
But me, I'm still flappin'.