My own soul is just like a butterfly,
Fluttering in open sky and enjoying itself;
Having freedom to do what it want,
Roams around and searches for some elf.
Delves for its happiness and delight,
Finds more butterflies with pretty thought;
Tries getting along with them swiftly,
Even gives them affection which it brought.
Soon it found something was wrong,
Butterflies had a suspicious pair of wings;
The way they flew was a lot different,
My butterfly felt stuck in unknown strings.
Innocent nectar sucker understood it,
The actual faces finally started to appear;
They are flies in mask of pretty wings,
Red Lights flashing thro' their fake nature.
The flies were leaving it one by one,
Realized it was too soft hearted than need;
It was blind to let the cruel flies use it,
Now it wanted to stay alone with its deed.
More flies came and more flies go,
Although my butterfly didn't get in the trap,
Was careful due to past experience,
It will be its priority and follow its own map.
YOU ARE READING
𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾。
Poetry"My Smile's Crumbling" is a poignant collection weaving threads of melancholy and fragility. Each poem delves into the weak architecture of the human spirit, exploring moments of fracture. Through verses that influence raw emotion, it navigates the...
