MockeryAnother butterfly crumples,Mockery2 years ago in Scraps More Like This
edges of silken wings twisting under hissing blazes.
Colorful patterns dissolve to grey and ash,
spiraling into winds that once aided freedom,
now mopping up the aftermath.
and now I have something to write about,
scratching lead joining the rustling of growing leaves, and the
falling of shaded butterflies.
'Strength' is written down over and over,
as if repetition will bring it realism.
I hide cowardly natures behind this pad and paper,
nose buried in the glamorous beauty of these words,
in which sorrows retreat,
every one as pitiable as the last.