the butterfly

youth
did mutter
flies did flutter
butterflies did scutter
the light that provides
still shudders
on days
cold childhoods without any mothers

the ones that they guide
to and fro waves
away from suicide
depression still figures
in sand shadow hills

as often i wrestle
about my poetry skills
how much i could muster
and put how i feel
if i had not a mother

id only have bitter chills

but as light stabs sharp
in dark hypnotised and
still too it shines
in delight but more harsh
i feel a cocoon
form round bout my side
today i fly by my mother
never from her
for life