Beautiful butterfly flying so free,
up over the tallest pine tree.
Look at you sore as high as you can.
Living your life without a care.
Flying around you were cought by the net, that now hold you hostage too hard to tare.
No longer free you look lost inside,
no longer able to spread your wings out wide.
Butterfly, butterfly your beauty unseen,
Only the memories lie within.
No longer able to fly free, over the tallest pine tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem