The butterfly flew in the sky,
Dancing in an angelic form.
Then someone cast an evil eye,
And she landed in a storm.
She got thrown around,
Her wings got cut.
Finally she landed,
On a pile of mud.
Nobody with her,
She was all alone.
Nobody to help her,
She silently moaned.
She tried to cry for help,
But could only stutter.
She tried to fly,
But could only flutter.
The sun came up,
And made the weather nice.
The butterfly became still,
As she silently died.
Nobody to cry for her,
Nobody to mourn.
She died silently,
Miserable and all alone.
YOU ARE READING
COCKTAIL
Poetry"In the sea of emotions, My life's a rough sail. To drown the storms out, I pour a glass of COCKTAIL." Who knows what life suddenly throws at you? Lemon? Apple? Cherry? Orange? The bigger thing is to make a cocktail out of it. After all, what bette...
