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Butterfly
As I see the butterfly flying high
I think of you again
I think of how you used to sing
I think of how you used to dance
I think of how you used to talk
I think of how you used to cry
I think of how you used to laugh
As that little butterfly goes by
I just think
And pray that one day
Just one day
I will see you again
When that butterfly flies high I think of you
And only you
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This poem is about my great grandma, she passed away when I was young, but I was really close. She loved butterflies so that’s pretty much how I came up with the idea.