Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
mark john junor Sep 2014
she says she cant feel anything
as she is cutting shapes of butterfly's into the paper thin
draws little rivers i cant swim
but she smiles and says thats fine
cause she likes me long as i don't talk too much
'specially bout her childhood mutt
she dragged that mutt every place
had really sad eyes
he's somewhere round here i'm sure
just shadow of his former selves
just like me

just like me
but she don't seem to mind
we sit in the regulation standard size sunlight window
and i watch her while she watches traffic crawl
the hospital grounds an expanse of grass
that someday we will someday go play upon
someday when her screaming doesn't hurt so much
when the nurses don't linger to catch

her childhood mutt is barking again, i can see it in her face
she breaks out the soap but it wont help
she trims out another butterfly
out of the paper thin
it just lay there echoing silently
like her tears
i try to kiss them away before visiting hours are over
but there are allways more shapes of butterfly's in the paper thin
drawing little rivers i cant swim
little rivers i can't swim
(about a girl i knew a lifetime ago)
mark john junor Jul 2014
two butterflys chase eachother
across the summer pond
they are small fragile pieces of light and color
but they are woven into the summer song
that plays in her heart
watch them float on the warm air
watch them spin and turn in the daises
and climb the hill like lovers to the shelter of
the grand oak and its secret shade
its a song that flows along the silent exchange of smiles
its a song that shines in the night
lets you remember what you've dreamt can be true
that you began as a orphan
but now your part of another persons tale
lets find out what wonderful magic
is waiting for you
lets see where such a lovely summer day
leads your young questing heart
home in her arms

— The End —