Stared that butterfly's wings, down
soaked the colors into my heart
drank the shapes of that pattern
like a tequila shot; a double in the glass
Sat in silence, while they fluttered off
into the sunset; much like us, really
Bows are restrictive, so I sit in wait
to pluck your strings, while I watch
the movie, expecting to read the script
glaring in the depths of angel eyes
If I was her, If I was P! nk; I'd end this
with some pathetic pantie poetry
But the butterfly has not come back
-x-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you Bernard I'm glad you like it! Best wishes :)