Chocolate Butterfly

If I Could, I Would Gather Rainbows And Weave Them Into Your Sense Of Self In Order To Brighten The Prospects For Your Life Line
‘cause, Baby Girl, The Shadows You Cloak Yourself With Not Only Curtail Your Vision But Also Prime Your Soul For The Grim One
As You Wander, Blindly, Your Raw, Unpainted Toes,
Though They Slide Across Pavement And Let You Know Where The Potholes Are
Fail To Read The Yellow Placed Onto The Road To Warn You That…you’ve Strayed Across The Lines
And Oncoming, Unseen, Hurtles The Unforgiving, Unwavering Spectre…of Despair
For What Fate Awaits The Butterfly That Comes To Think Itself A Moth?
That Drinks Not Of Nectar And Sunshine But Hovers Nearer The Ground, Absorbing Baser Flavors
In The Shadows, In The Corner, By The Floor, It Dwells
But, Like A Snow Hare On Grassy Plain…cannot Go Unoticed
I, First Saw Her In A Gallery
A Beautiful Butterfly, Flutterring From Painting To Painting, Statue To Statue
Yet Holding Back, As If The Light Surrounding Them Would Reveal...she Didn't Belong
See, She Knew Not That She Was Comely
Her, Large, Almond Eyes, Full, Succulent Lips, Delicate, Flaring Nostrils And Deep, Dark, Rich, Chocolate Skin Kissed My Eyes Like A Velvet Caress
But The Latter, The Richness Of Her Hue, Was The Weapon Used To Bludgeon Her Sense Of Self
As Barbs Of Dark And Ugly, Dark And Ugly, Dark And Ugly
Sank Into Her Soul, Ripped Away Her Confidence
Tore, The Wings She Never Got To Use
'thus...she Became Easy Prey
Succumbed,
Laid On Her Back, Threw Her Legs In The Air
And Allowed Even Scavengers To Feast On Her
Til At Last, Ambling, Listless, Hopeless
Raw Unpainted Toes Scraping Across Pavement,
Ears Indifferent To The Honks And Yells
I Could Tell…leila Didn’t Live There Anymore
So The Screech, The Thunk, The Hard Landing On Pavement, Were Anticlimactic
And, As She Lay There, Mangled Body Now Mirroring Her Soul
I Thought Of How Her Fragile Beauty Struck My Senses So Many Years Ago,
How, I Failed Her
How, I Never Let Her Know…she Belonged
That Hers Was The Beauty Of A Warm, Crescent Smile On A Cloudless Night
And She Was The Gallery's Masterpiece