Butterflies

The butterflies flutter,

They fly round and round,

Their wings beat fast,

Yet they make not a sound,



Tickling your senses,

As they tumble around,

Causing nervous excitement,

Before they fall to the ground,



Then just as you think,

You're back in controll,

They rise up again,

To torment your soul.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written with the help of my Dad.

View intothedawn's Full Portfolio
tags: