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It's Only One


Always seen but never heard,

lurking in the dark shadows,

beckoning its prey to their death.

 

A butterfly, innocent and unsuspecting,

captured, maimed, killed

brutally with little taste nor reason.

 

Oh the sorrow that should come!

Such a beautiful creature, destroyed

without a second thought or care.

 

But no, does anyone care?

Tis naught but a butterfly,

there are hundreds more.

 

Why care with so many around?

It’s just one butterfly.

Easily replaced, no reason to fret.

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lindsay

I recently discovered poetry as a way to release my inner thoughts so I'm still in the beginning phases of finding my own personal style.

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