Sunday, 13 December 2009


There are millions of butterflies
Yet only one I call a friend

There are a thousand reasons why
But I can only think of one

It’s the only one that called me broken
Yet it said it liked me

Only broken butterflies can’t fly after all
It thinks me strange

I trapped it in a jar
Couldn’t bear to let it go

But then I saw it shed a tear
So I let it go

But it said maybe I needed a friend
So it refused to fly away

I leaned in and said go fly away
Go be with those like you

It shook its head and bit its wings off
It held them out

For you so you can be free it said
Then it fell asleep

There might be a million butterflies
Yet only one I called a friend

1 comment:

Jules said...

Isn't that exactly what true friendship is all about? You'd give your own life for them if you knew it would help them out? You feel their pain and their highs right along with them? And it's amazing how it can happen without the limits of like qualities.

Everybody should be so lucky to have a *butterfly*