Each morning the butterflies rise.
It’s a nauseous feeling caused by eyes.
She trots about, I’m awaiting the day,
Where once again she’ll come my way.
She’s refuses the coffee,
and insists on strawberry.
Our relations are made common
Like the rich man eats ramen.
The diverse coalescence of times,
In contrast it saves potential dimes.
Yet, money sings quietly above,
Since by my heart sings the biological dove.
Her title is one which suggests:
Perhaps I should pursue the person which pests.
The other of same name
Makes ripples in the pursuing frame.
She’s a picture that saved me the warm season
Now that looks like a wasted clover reason.
Shall I clench the soil
To only have it foiled?
Cut short by cinematic travel,
Should those without desire toss the first gravel?
I have it and will toss it.
Without the desire your freedom is grit,
An annoyance in spit.
Poetic evolution from heart to liberty,
Contrasts a question of stifling duality.
It will not do to choose a choice that chastens the spirit.
Better a leap into the dark, still why do we fear it?
Across the mountains and over the sea
Lies unimaginable possibility
To liven the spirit and fulfil the need.
It’s a result that’s desired with exacerbating speed.
In the meantime, remember to always have fun,
The path of life is a gushing run.
It turns and twists down valleys and gorges,
Cutting the rock, the mindset it forges.
I will find a love that is over that hill,
Leaving the choices, especially the shill.
The next chapter is a song and a reel,
Oh you butterflies, take the wheel!