It rained that day.

It rained the day when the butterfly lay

On her flower, though chosen

For her presence of presence

Now trapped.

After all, butterflies can’t fly in the rain.

It rained that day. 

Hailing, pounding, waterful way

Piercing the petals of silken bliss

Tearing the butterfly to a world

Where she can’t fly.

After all, butterflies can’t fly in the rain.

It rained that day.

Months of dry rain, still raining today

She tries and she tries but her wings won’t extend

She keeps a warm soul, yet her spirits

Are dampened.

After all, butterflies can’t fly in the rain.

It rained that day.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to stay

But the home of the given rose

Autumn arrives and winter goes

Quietly.

After all, butterflies can’t fly in the rain.

It rained that day.

She’s still on her flower, the sky still grey

Willing the world to work as one

And part the clouds above

For the sun. 

After all, butterflies can’t fly in the rain.