How strange it is, that a creature so pure.
Is the one that we never lent an ear.
Unlike us, they never fight.
Never feel anger, hatred, nor spite.
Sucking up the nectar of blooms.
They no need, to stalk nor loom.
"What is this creature?" you might speak.
The truth is they are meek.
Now, without further ado, and I won't lie.
The creature is a butterfly.

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