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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1844847
Lost chances.
I used to be a butterfly,
I used to play around with light;
Agile and quick--I never missed
And no one thought it would end like this.

But one day the light burnt me.
My graceful wings ached terribly.
It was the climax of my life,
The time I thought I was ready to die.

And I lost myself in pain,
I got to love it, I got insane.
The more it burnt, the more I craved,
But this path led me to my grave.

My graceful wings at last stopped still,
But I couldn't help my insanity.
And day by day, piece by piece
I got to lose my graceful wings.


I used to be a butterfly,
But now I'm nothing but a lie.
My graceful wings I hold to me
To cherish what I could've been.

"It's not your fault," I tell myself,
"It's all their doing, they cut your flesh."
But it's no use, I still believe
I could've been different me.
© Copyright 2012 Iao^Kamirru (volfnesswhiter at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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