Imagine A Butterfly

Scrub the joy of New Year
When on earth you have nothing to year
Call me shallow, call me a whore
I'll get what's coming to me eventually.

At the end of the rainbow there’s a storm
Crawling inside your moves like a crazy warm
You can be a poet or a saint
In the end we all faint

I’ve finally seen the light,
Coming out of the black whole
I know I’ve got what I deserve
Now I can enjoy it

When you’ve become a shadow
A slave of magic powder
You can imagine a butterfly
Who flies in front of you and shows you the light
The right way out of the black hole

The butterfly is a precious treasure
A friend indeed
When trouble ahead there may be
You can lay on it’s guidance throughout the storm

Written by Anne Kelvin