Butterfly

Butterfly

Walking on a way home,

Walking on the same path.

A road of sunny and gay,

Now gloomy and sad.

I must have slept and miss my stop,

but I was wide awake  with it on my lap.

A radiant glow on my face,

Which lost after may day.

Pleasures of once knowing,

Binds my heart that is burning.

How can a butterfly hurts?

And stings in my hands.

I never believe what was said,

cause' I know better than plead.

There's more to love than to brag,

In the end, it will all come out.

In the garden, to see.

Butterfly flies so free.

To choose where to go.

To choose where to be.

....I couldn't came up with a better introduction for this poem I just created but it's just one of those randomness days that I can create poems such as this. I have never known such feeling of wanting to be in the same moment but different time. Wherein you can possibly do whatever you can so freely like a butterfly....

I leave you with a song I had on my background while writing this poem,