Look at the butterflies they're flying,
The strong little wings, they're left alone to have thier dying,
But I know, the white ones here are struggling with living,
I'm sure, after seeing them day after day in a row,
The singular presence of one fluttering, across the street falling in and out of it's own decline as they go.
Alone they are without any company to cope,
As fragile little butterflies, just out of reach of window shields crossing the street alone,
Unseen as I watch their frail decline, right in front of the windows of the street.
It's here they travel the road, in hopes of dying before their hit with winter's sleet.
STAI LEGGENDO
When Sanity is Lost
PoesiaAnd I just couldn't stop, before I knew it I was picking the pen up again. My second book in process this is soon to begin editing once my last one is done. As always hope you enjoy and find my insta @these.are.true.feelings
