Fragile or fickle
Take care of love, lil' butterfly
Said a loving voice
to him
The dear voice of his childhood
Which
was just a vague memory
In his crazy memory
Then the funnel lies in wait
Like a vice
in life
It absorbs young birds
Imprisons their
colors
Until they haven't any flavor
Far from forests and blueberries' fragrance
It plunges their soul into darkness
That's a beverage adored by hornets
Who feel the end approaching
The fickle and colored butterfly
Doesn't
take care
But some meetings are prisons
Their poison is in abundance
Every pretext is good
To eat butterflies
The smaller it is, the cuter it is
And the bigger the
temptation
Smart, but it's soft and cuddly
Circumstances are to them a net
In whom they draw crossed lines
My grandmother's voice
Somewhere... Somewhere
else
Reminds me that we keep the best
Buried at the bottom of our heart
By Nora