Broken Butterflies


Go to sleep and close your eyes, and dream of broken butterflies
That tore their wings against a thorn
You know the pain that they have born
Were they born just to die, never again able to fly
They miss the feel of the sweet breeze, underneath their broken wings
As they lay there unaware, their friends fly away elsewhere
Now that you know their plea, will you still run and flee
Even though the butterflies are many, many small lives
They long for what they can't have, their missing broken other half
Their wings which pushed them through the air
Now cause them nothing but pain and despair
And if you could you surely would, help the broken butterflies
The ones who have suffered a tear
Never again able to soar through the air
Their wings which once caused them nothing but glee
Now cause them to cry their plea
They want the pain to end, but yet it will never happen
As the pain slowly fades
They realise that they are more than butterflies
They are the hope which stands alone
Giving wounded soldiers an unbroken home
This poem may seem dark to thee, but it does not to me
It shows what every wounded soldier knows
That if you give up and cry
Never again will you be able to fly
For what they lack forevermore
Their lessons can be passed down in myth and lore
So one day none will know the pain, that was the wounded soldier's bane

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