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Butterfly out of my hand
You've started to feel
These things besides you
To much, To real
With damp wings
You start to crawl
Petals to feet
You slip and fall
Take a stab at your thoughts
I hit the mark
What sinister ideas
A bit too dark
So hasten your pace
And leave your calls
This cry for corruption
My Rise your Fall
- by Oak Tremble Tar |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 07/03/2009 |
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- Title: Butterfly out of my hand
- Artist: Oak Tremble Tar
- Description: Poem I wrote two years ago. I actually wathched a butterfly fly out of my hands and get crushed in the rain. But that's not who I wrote this for.
- Date: 07/03/2009
- Tags: butterfly hand
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