The Difference Between A Bullet and Love

September 27, 2009
By Anonymous

He clipped the wings of my butterfly,
But yet it still flew.
I heard it didn't make it to far,
Since the ground was so high.

The dizziness of this culture,
Smothered his soul.
So he took that pain,
across the beautiful wings.

His ridged nails scarped the colors,
And the happiness that went along.
Years have gone by and I still see the butterfly's shadow on my hand.

He still has the wings on his bed.
As he lay there begging for forgiveness.
"I can't forgive because,
You still carry the butterfly's shadow.

And I want the shadow to be gone."


The author's comments:
I wrote this poem based on a friend of mine. She told me a story of how her father abused her physically and mentally. I compared my friends soul to the wings of the butterfly. And the butterfly to her father's angry side. Re-read the story and see if you understand it better now.

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