I sit and write a poetry
For the day I should it be.
Seeing people come and go
From my corner of the window.

I always sleep in there,
The dream I get in my mind
Like a fairy tales,
That I'd to find.

Oh, the sun burns my blood
And became a fire,
A flame get me to shoot
And around me hire.

Take me fly in sky!
No wings did I use to play!
The wind brings me so high
And I can see you more bright.

Oh, the world I used to be lived
In the beautiful things I always see
At the rainy days it brings me a belief
For more time to be the character in my fantasy.

it let the bird fly,
learn, grow, change.
but when the bird falls,
stays the same, decays,
a thrill climbs up our bones
as the crack of the wishbone
echoes in our expectant ears
like a loud, resounding gong -
as our supposed fate awaits.

I catch the dust
Flying it up on the paper
Getting throw to be fast
Let it go then after

I draw my feel
Being good on the sketch book
Painting its to be so real
But nobody wants to look

I see myself
In the middle of the sky
Trying to go down
And never try to fly

Confidence is my armour
Optimism is my saviour
I wander in the darkness
And kiss the silence
Don't tear my wings
Don't force me the rings
Even if I get thrashed
I will land into my saviour's arms
My armour would be holding my palms

Do butterflies realize their beauty,
The wonderful way in which they fly,
Or do they compare themselves to every insect
Wondering if they should hide their colorful wings with dye.

Do they admire their wing’s softness
Their calming patterns, soft and light
Or do they think there’s something wrong with them
If there's something faulty with their size

Do they hate carrying the weight
of those stunning patterned wings
Do they ask themselves why they don't look the same
Or do they realize it is because they're queens.

Do they recognize they have nothing to be jealous of.
That they’re special and unique
Those wings are part of who they are
And without them, they would just be weak.

Do butterflies realize their wings’ beauty
And know they need them to reach the sky
Because without them they would be incomplete
And would remain “butter” without “fly”.