My Butterfly.
Little winged creature, of beauty and grace, let me take you to a very fun place. You tickle my fingers and try to flee free, but now your mine, I want you for me. Your life is now mine, as I sit on my knees, your kingdom is my small childish hands, no longer skies and bountiful trees. You don't need flowers, dandelions, daffodils, marigolds, you have my fingers, forever to be in my hold. Again, you tickle, you try to fly about, although, little butterfly, you cannot get out.
I wonder what your life used to be, that is, before you met me. You were once, a caterpillar, clinging to a tree, then you were a cocoon, then you were free. You became what you are, a butterfly, a beautiful one indeed, you have the stories on your wings, patterns I want to read. What stories do you hold little one? Can you keep a secret, I know I will, whisper in my ear, I shall never tell!
You have started to calm, are you growing fond, of my palm who has you in a bond. Or are you waiting, willing, to die, don't fret little butterfly, please do not cry. I will be there till forever, I will take care of your needs, I will give you some nectar, I'll plant you some seeds. You can live in my fingertips, and play with my heart, you can tickle me pink, until death do us part. Do you trust me? Do you trust me?
I peak through my fingers, just a quick glance, you have a firghtened look, a death-stricken stance. Are you okay? Oh please reply, darling, why, why, why? I wanted your love and I wanted your cheer, I thought I gave you affection, but instead, I fed you fear. I thought you would like me, I wanted a friend, I thought you would be there, right until the end. Are you dead, are you awake, please do not sleep for my sake. Look the sun is shining, would you like to play a game? Or is it too late, did I kill you with shame.
Aha! You fluttered! Your not dead but merely tired, now that I know, my imagination is wired. Can we play? Can we play? I have popsicles, what's your favorite sweet, I still behold you, you look kind of beat.
Wait, no, no this isn't right, I wanted you to be happy but instead, you are in fright. I apologize, for my wrong-doings and things, I hope you can go on, with beauty in your wings. Did I mention your gorgeous, with quite some charm, all different colors, you mean no harm. All you wanted was freedom, but dear, I have taken it away, I'm so sorry butterfly! I took you astray!
As I opened my hands, you looked up at me, you look hopeful, and you want to be free. I open them wider, until all the way ajar. But you don't leave, why don't you fly far? You are just sitting there, staring up in my eyes, your tongue twitches a tad, your honest with no lies. Here you go little one, a nice daisy to call home, much better then my hands cupped in a dome. I set you down on a petal, you crawl to it with grace. Everything you do has a beat, and a pace. Do butterflys smile? I think you just did, a nod of your head and thanks worth-while. You sat there for some minutes, then started to fly, I watched you go, but started to cry. My small knees have stains from the grass so green, and the evidence of you on my hands is yet to be seen. Your gone, gone, no longer more, till death do us part, yeah right, we are torn.