The aspect of this butterfly
Is the beauty in its own lie
With hues that hide its reality
Flapping towards into insanity
Its grace brings forth propriety
As it lures men into conformity
They all stood as grand towers
But with minds open as flowers
Ready for her picking and sipping
Until all are empty from weeping
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6:11 pm / 5th of April 2014
Sunday / In my home
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