In my hand I hold beauty,
In my hand I hold simplicity.
In my hand I hold love,
In my hand I hold something that flies above.
A butterfly sits silently in my hand,
It shall never again fly or land.
A butterfly is the symbol of hope,
A butterfly is supposed to help you cope.
My life is wasting away,
I’m like this butterfly in my hand who won’t live another day.
I stare at the small, delicate creature,
Who will soon die in its leisure.
I stare at the butterfly,
I crush it in my hands and it dies.