Murder Butterfly

The rainy, watery day
Frolicking in the bleeding sky
'Haha', we say
Playing with my murder butterfly

Like the white on rice
And the dots on dice
That's just alrigh'
Dancing with my murder butterfly

My butterfly's soul is of the dead
Waiting to pass through purgatory
For it is a ghost instead,
Loving my murdered butterfly

poem by Phil Kellogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!