The second a child is born on this earth,
They hear a common theme since birth
From mouths of the wise and TV screens,
"You children always must follow your dreams.
"Spot them like butterflies and chase after them, son!
Don't stop, daughter, until you've caught them and won."
So these young children learn to run-
Before they can walk or smile or talk,
They chase after butterflies dressed in their smocks.
Away from their parents, their homes, their toys,
Their eyes glued on the pretty wings
Promising success, those wings do sing.
They SWerve past the oncoming cars,
tripping and scraping their knees-
Struggling under the weight of their school bags-
some fighting poverty and dressed in thin rags.
They run despite hunger, fatigue, and tears,
Still following those butterflies near.
Their feet are bound in so many chains:
Their college tuition, diet and nutrition
Rights and persecution, their
Sadly, no one felt the need to say
The cost of chasing butterflies
Would chase them every single day.
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