The Life of a Butterfly
The life of a butterfly is short
Their time is spent flying around, pleasing to the
human eye
They live their life, not knowing the beauty they hold.
The bright colours and the unique patterns of
their wings, invisible to them.
The life of a butterfly is short
They spend their time flying around, watching
over us.
The laughter of children at parks,
The boredom of adults at work.
The romance between a couple on a date,
The sadness of a lonely man.
The life of a butterfly is short
They spend their time flying around, mesmerised
by nature.
The colourful field of flowers,
The stumps of trees cut down.
The bright bees buzzing,
The brown squirrels jumping.
The life of a butterfly is short
they live, then die.
Like us all.
We watch, listen and dream
For a future, where we can be just as free.
The Broken Mirror
It laid shattered, into a hundred pieces
It laid humiliated, each piece revealed a different
shape
It laid with nostalgia, each piece revealing a
memory from the past
Deemed useless, stripped of its only use.
But each piece shows a new reflection,
A new angle
A new story
A new path
A new way to view yourself,
Each piece exposes a new perspective.
Now, the broken mirror lies with
A sense of pride
A sense of peace
A sense of confidence
Early Summer Mornings
Sunbeams brighten up my room
The messy boxes, the clustered pens and papers
lay on my desk.
The unfinished self-portrait on the floor,
The attempts residing in the trash can.
Sunbeams brighten up my room
Revealing my
Messy hair, unwashed for days.
Dirty nails, unkept for weeks.
Creased clothes on the floor, lying there since January.
The cool summer breeze
Carrying the scent of oak trees
The only positives
of the early summer mornings.
