they always follow through
guided by their instincts
they always follow the lead
an obedient crowd
no one really knows where
they would really go
you look at at them and
have this sense of worry
the shortage of the leaves
the endless walk on the branch
some have fallen
and you try to pick them
and let them be
unknown to you
is nature's law
the survival of the fittest
that those who become
butterflies
are those that never stop
to try to eat
and then to be transformed
from worm to winged
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