Where is it that the butterflies roam
After your deceptive plot
The beings that flutter
With sporadic yet graceful joy
The beauty of the eye gone
And the bees
Who's sting is only as sharp
As a deflowered world
A youth with no innocence
Because of an industrial scheme
To recruit robots of flesh
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:03 PM UTC
Where is it that the butterflies roam
After your deceptive plot
The beings that flutter
With sporadic yet graceful joy
The beauty of the eye gone
And the bees
Who's sting is only as sharp
As a deflowered world
A youth with no innocence
Because of an industrial scheme
To recruit robots of flesh
Request permission to use this poem