I reach out,
And brush the wing of the butterfly
With the clumsiness of a child.
So beautiful; I can’t deny,
So fragile yet so wild.
Perched upon my fingertip,
So perfect and so free,
So beautiful; I can’t deny,
And it has chosen me.
Sitting silent, nature’s beauty
Wings, they quiver then are still,
Colours from the god’s own palette
Reach out my hand, with sudden thrill.
And in my clumsy mortal way,
I crush the butterfly
Surrender it unto the winds,
It’s beauty still, I can’t deny.
Author notes
This poem is a recent work I wrote after it finally dawned on my why an ex broke up with me along time ago. It's wierd that I'd be thinking about it, because it's outside of my normal train of thought, but that day I was just following a different track I guess.
I began to reflect on how my immature, childish clumsiness (social) brought us apart and ultimately destroyed anything that we had. So, in tribute to that, and looking back at how far I've really come in two years, I wrote this. 
Written September 23rd, 2004
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Comments
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whoa, that person used a lot of big words... awesome job, and i love how it's all like, one big metaphor, that's awesome man... *hands you a cookie and hugs you* great job, keep it up. and uhh thanks for your comment on mine, dude. rock on.
<33 Kayla -
I loved how you applied your breakup to an extremely metaphorical piece, applied it to crushing something beautiful. It was very prolific, and strangly enough- honest in a surreal way. I loved it, I was really just enraputred by it all. Cheers, Kat
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