Butterfly thoughts,
fluttering here and there
my dreams and reality
have never made a good pair
Sometimes i grow so weary,
sometimes teary at the stares
Are they wondering moth or butterfly
is it my clothes, my pigment or my hair?
There is so much more to me
if they would just wait until i speak
It takes a lot of misplaced pride
or is it just simply cheek,
so many don't look before they leap
I don't judge a book by it's cover,
turn the pages slowly and let time discover
each leaf is different like no other
there more to the tree than the dead branches
but you'll never know if you don't take your chances
No comments:
Post a Comment