Butterfly

I was just going through my drawer and I came across the diary I had when we shifted to the city, I always start a diary with a poem or something, here’s how I started this one

Here’s and example,

From a Butterfly 

Who on a tough, hard rock,

Happy can lie

Friendless and all alone,

On this unsweetened stone

Now let my bed be hard,

No care take I –

I’ll make joy like this,

Small butterfly

Who’s happy heart has power,

To make a stone, a flower

 

 

 

P.s. I didn’t write it

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