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Decayed Butterfly
Decayed Butterfly

Crawling out of my cacoon, it seems that I have ran out of room.
Time passed by and I have emerged a decayed butterfly.
Unable to take flight, growing to old to fight.
And my heart screams
where are my wings?
The regret I can now taste, it is a sick flavor of waste.
There comes a point when it is to late to change and you got
Nothing left to rearrange.
Forced to face your own reflection, mine is far worse than what
I expected. It is everything that I do not want reflected.
Walking out on a high wire with self inflicted wounds beneath my feet,
I have awoken in disbelief. Wondering how long I have been asleep?
I have been living numb, letting sacred moments pass me by.
Letting myself turn into a decayed butterfly.
Again, my heart screams
Where are my wings?
So, I can fly far away from reality and all that I see.
But I know the one thing that I want to escape is unescapable
And it will always be, me ......

By Tracy McDaniel

© 2019 Tracy McDaniel (All rights reserved)


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