PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Forgive me, dearest Butterfly
For leaving you behind
It took so long to write these words
And tears still fill my eyes
And every night, I'm there again
Hollow, meek and cold
My restless mind, it traps me there
My prison without stone

My hands are red with Georgia clay
Packed fresh upon a faerie's grave
A prayer is whispered to the breeze,
A broken-hearted lover's plea

Forgive me, dearest Butterfly
For mourning you in vain
For trying hard to hide my tears
That drip upon this page
And in the night, I hear your voice
Begging me to sing
Mumbling to a darkened room
A lullaby of dreams

And I can smell the Georgia clay
Packed fresh upon a faerie's grave
A song is carried through the breeze,
A broken-hearted lover sings

You know, my dearest Butterfly,
I thought I'd be so brave
I captured half a meadow there
Beside the Interstate
Her face still kills me to recall
Your mother's shattered frown
And I still hear her broken voice
She spoke straight to the ground

Our hands were red with Georgia clay
Packed fresh upon a faerie's grave
A prayer she cried upon the breeze,
A broken-hearted mother's plea

Forgive me, dearest Butterfly
For dealing well with this
Forgive me for my new-found hope
My new-found happiness