I saw a butterfly once, it's left wing was crumpled, tipping it off-balance as it crawled along the window sill
It's right wing was still smooth and perfect, gaily coloured in a pretty pastel pink -
It looked so cheerful and delicate, as it beat against the air, the butterfly struggling vainly to lift itself back into flight -
And then a slight breeze came along, nearly tumbling the crippled butterfly out into dangerous wide-open spaces
But I cupped my hand around it's frail form, protecting it until the wind had passed by in it's mini-fury.
And I continued watching it.
You came and stood beside me, and we watched together for a moment, silent in our own personal musings...
Then, suddenly, you brought your hand down on the butterfly, smashing it against the window sill
You kept your hand over it, just for a moment, and then lifted it, staring at the crushed form of the forever-broken butterfly -
When you looked at me, you smiled and shrugged, and said that it didn't matter, that the damned thing might as well have been dead already, that you had done it a favour -
And you walked away, whistling an almost familiar tune...
new_beau
Age: 124
7706 days old here
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~tasha~ said:
I saw a butterfly once, it's left wing was crumpled, tipping it off-balance as it crawled along the window sill
It's right wing was still smooth and perfect, gaily coloured in a pretty pastel pink -
It looked so cheerful and delicate, as it beat against the air, the butterfly struggling vainly to lift itself back into flight -
And then a slight breeze came along, nearly tumbling the crippled butterfly out into dangerous wide-open spaces
But I cupped my hand around it's frail form, protecting it until the wind had passed by in it's mini-fury.
And I continued watching it.
You came and stood beside me, and we watched together for a moment, silent in our own personal musings...
Then, suddenly, you brought your hand down on the butterfly, smashing it against the window sill
You kept your hand over it, just for a moment, and then lifted it, staring at the crushed form of the forever-broken butterfly -
When you looked at me, you smiled and shrugged, and said that it didn't matter, that the damned thing might as well have been dead already, that you had done it a favour -
And you walked away, whistling an almost familiar tune...
eshajam
Age: 36
6341 days old here
Total Posts: 15689
Points: 0
Location:
United Arab Emirates, United Arab Emirates
A small white that i saw flying freely but seems nowhere to go finding a tree is the place to hold if it gets tired afraid it will fall.
behind its color white means loneliness it is free but scared of emptiness the tree is the only option for survival apparently surrender, is the utmost final.
butterfly sometimes join the crowd hiding sorrow by fooling around at the end of the day,it cannot conceal smiling no more,crying out what it feel.
the small white butterfly is me someday i know i will be flying free maybe suffocating but when i look behind small white butterfly is just in my mind.
eshajam
Age: 36
6341 days old here
Total Posts: 15689
Points: 0
Location:
United Arab Emirates, United Arab Emirates
That first bright step into the sunshine of life begins with the opening of the family cocoon. The caterpillar becomes a butterfly spreading her wings into the world.
What she is today is but a tiny mirror. of the transformation that is yet to come. For with time, love, humor and warmth She is an everchanging masterpiece.
Whether as wife, mother, career woman or all, she will find her center of peace. A place that is hers and hers alone, the essence of what she is and will be.
Using the instincts that each of us have to find the good in each other. to be a caring friend, lover, helper and playmate, to listen and share, to laugh and to cry.
With loving support of family and friends, she takes flight down an unknown road towards her future, like the rising of the sun in the east. Each day filled with new beginnings.
Finding excitement and challenge at each new turn. Her flight through life filled with many happy adventures and memories to put in her book of life, as the sun moves along that steady path across the sky.
When the sun at last begins to set in the west and her flight nears its end, she can look back along her path and know that she has been everything she can be and has done her very best.
confustion
