Butterflies don't hiss or growl
Yet I hear it when she walks by
Knows what she's doing
When she flaps those wing
So elegantly
Charming, hypotising each boy
I could be a butterfly too
Already have the delicacy on each limb
Painted cuts on each wing
Smile as pretty she does
I'll cut it on my face for you
On tiptoes I'm just as tall
And if I stand on my top floor
I could fly out the window
Fly as soft as your butterfly
Crack my head on the pavement below
Bleed pretty swirls
in the pavement cracks
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Author:
Jo Middleton (
Offline) - Published: March 9th, 2018 10:25
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: A. F. Naturaliy, Jamie.
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Comments1
This reminds me of a guy I really liked, when I was younger .
Unfortunately, he liked the “ perfect model” type .
Which I never was.
I used to sometimes wish I could be like her.
Then he would like me.
Nice write:)
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