I'm afraid
We're going to isolate
Even further than we are

If we don't get a grip
On this sinking ship
Going down for the third

Being all I, me, mine
Where we spend our time
Inside our solitary rooms

This constant creep of self
Will soon be our death
If we keep humming this crazy tune

Our social butterfly
Has up and died
Cut off in mid-bloom

The once abundant life
Took to flight
With nothing much to do

But to isolate
I'm afraid
Even further than we are

With no flotation devices left
On this sinking ship
Going down for the third

The streets are bare as
the cherry blossoms still bloom.
Life will carry on.


A walk in the woods
will still be enjoyable,
while six feet apart.


Slow down and observe
the beat of nature, for it
is good for the soul.

While you may find it excessive,
my wardrobe's full to the brim with pretty pink dresses,
and further to the back,
are the skeletons hanging on frail racks.
Leave them be,
you don't need to see.

The sun has her heart on setting, and so takes an impetuous bow.

The mountains open trees like umbrellas, to which their budding wildlife gather under.

High above the lamplight district, a cluster of crows assemble on a wire, taking a vote over which direction to take wing.

The grumpy locomotive steams ahead, hissing at its schedule and the possibilities of further rust.

A lady of style, turning on her heels from the salon, swears to the heavens she'll get even if anything ruins her hair.

And you, just this morning...

waving goodbye to me from an upstairs window with a smile, but silently praying I will return to you alive and in good health.

Butterflies get all the love
Get all of the attention
Come out in daylight
When you can shine in the sun
Fold your wings
Beautiful to peer
Slender smooth stance
Grown in a fancy house

What about me?
I’m pretty too
Stout and fuzzy
Come out at night
Shining in the moonlight
Show my wings on display
Like a jet plane
Grown in modest house
Clothing not as daring as yours  
Name is small and dull

But I can still fly just as far
As you can... if I wanted
I’m not an ugly butterfly
You’re just a fancy moth

Can I give a girl anything  
Except what she wants