| LIKE THE WINGS OF A
BUTTERFLY With every passing breath Between our birth and death We are metaphoric man. And so when morning comes I eagerly await the dawn So my life could move ahead And I can carry on. But sometimes I feel fragile, Like jeweled wings of a butterfly Damaged by the slightest breeze On a summer afternoon. Then my wish is to return To the sanctity of my cocoon. © Alan Winters 29 August 2010 |
Awarded 31 August 2010
Awarded 31 August 2010
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