Tuesday, October 28, 2008


Hope is like a butterfly
Tenuous and frail
The smallest gust of hostile wind
Could cause its wings to fail

It fought its way up through the trees
It slowly fluttered aft
Avoiding all the birds of prey
Who'd quickly pick it off

It's weak, endangered, and may die
It may not live for long
But see the colors that I spy
The red brilliant as song

It's beautiful, this fragile thing
That one hard hand could crush
Watch the flare its bright hues make
As through the air they rush

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