The butterfly lay on the ground
Fluttering and screaming
Someone had hit it
With their big machines
Knocking it to the ground
With her babies nearby
Someone with no heart
Someone who took no pride in life
She couldn’t tell me her pleas
I couldn’t understand her agony
She was in pain I could see
Distressed little one
Delicate we had to be
Got her wings straight
She will fly again
Hope she repairs fully
She looks worn but still pretty
How could anyone just leave it
Still alive or not
From here or not
Rich or not
Speaking the same tongue or not
Is the conscience dead
Or are some just not born with one?

The fear right
below your skin, festers.
I listen to hissing sound of
simmering muse.

Space between the
words suffers. There was
no meaning left by
unspoken ties.

The castle of dreams crumbles, brick
by brick, in the hands
of sleeping volcanoes.

You need a
snake charmer to sway
the beauty of crooked
smile of time.

I still watch the trap.

The cuties got old quick
By being too ripe
I drew faces on them instead
Husband and wife

They aren’t really knickknacks
But I woulda had them encased
I liked them so much
They have a super cute face

They are still on my desk
Rosie discolored
Paul has a mustache
I’m sad to throw them in the trash

But they gotta go soon
Yes life even for a cutie to treasure
Shouldn’t of been so sour
I woulda eaten you with pleasure