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The Last One

Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing,
everything would be brighter
Such a yellow, way up high,
our world could be a lot lighter
Butterflies don't live here,
in a world of hate,
so it kisses the world goodbye,
soon discovering it's fate
Until the last butterfly,
was all ready to leave
One last chance left to fix,
trying hard to please
The last, the very last,
on it's way to go
everybody changed their ways,
the hate began to slow
See how much a butterfly,
can change the people's ways?
Why were we even fighting,
and was it just a phase?
that butterfly was the last one
and it wouldn't live forever
Were we too blind to see,
and to late to make it better?

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KingReject said...
Feb. 9, 2012 at 9:23 am
I really love this. Your syle is amazing. Slightly rythmic, though not enough to trap your words in it; perfect. You should check out my writing, though I've only posted two poems, and only one is good. :P I'd appreciate it. Five stars, by the way.
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