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Oct 2013
Butterfly haunts me
flutters by in the dark of night
when the smoke cleared
all that was left was a still photograph
no breath to be had, no words to be spoken
perched upon my mind where no one can see
all the secrets that taunt me

Left behind in your spirit
like an erratic zephyr they twist my head
nothing sacred in how you fled the atmosphere
I oft wonder have you found that freedom
as you floated from this earth
markings on the sky of colorless clues  
the painted scenery still not clear
all that's left to do is exhale poetry
I lost my beloved sister to suicide, I think of her as a butterfly spirit on good days...
Frieda P
Written by
Frieda P
557
   Sjr1000, H J St, K Mae, Jack and ---
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