Stuck behind,
Only watching,
She moves fleetingly,
I’m only watching.
The glass between us,
Only watching,
The gulf behind us,
I’m only watching.
I don’t want to be
A butterfly collector,
I don’t want to be
Just a butterfly collector.
The class between us,
Only watching,
She moves on the street,
I’m only watching.
I don’t want to be
A butterfly collector,
I don’t want to be
Just a butterfly collector.
I want to be somewhere else,
I want to be far away,
I want to be somebody else,
Because I don’t want to be a butterfly collector.
I don’t want to be
A butterfly collector,
I don’t want to be
Just a butterfly collector.
I don’t want to be,
I don’t want to be,
I don’t want to be,
I don’t want to be a butterfly collector.
©Charlie F. Kane
9/03/07
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem