Butterfly Wings

I've watched as you slipped away, like a little butterfly
away you flew out of my hand, no trace of emotion left behind
no one here but me, no one here but me and a memory
No elegant silk to cover my face and hide my tears, nothing to hide what I feel
Me, the second butterfly

Me, a boy, am told to only care for simple things
who could tell my family of bees, that I was born with larger wings?
who could let them know I had stainglass dreams?
I just wanted a gental painter, no one told me it would be me

I would sit alone in my garden, tasting nature
by way of rose and lilly and lavender
not knowing it was effecting my thoughts and feelings
not knowing it made me beautiful to the other butterflies

I found my first airial dance with one with neon green wings
not knowing she was what told me whom I had become
apart from her, others came and went like the rains of summer
and their colors faided showing their grey and lifeless luster

I found him, a nice pair of bright wings, that seemed to cover mine
the safety of the underside of sunflowers
the sweet embrace of cherry blossomes
and yet, the summer came again

here I am, a weak little butterfly, lost in a world of snow
and yet, I can still see you in the air
floating away, like me waking from a dream
everything seems to float away with you, do I dare close my eyes once more?

through closed eyes, though, I can see a flash
is that neon green I see... but am I lost in my dreams of spring?
a silken touch, the smell of an unknown garden, a smell so familiar
do I open my eyes? Do I wait for summer to come before I awaken?

I'm lost in the ice, wishing for warm leaves to hide under
wondering why I'm left behind
have I been picked up by a child and had my wings torn away...
or have you picked me up?

I can only wonder how far you flew away, how far he got, if he thinks of my color
How I wish I still have my wings when he returns for the spring
maybe a different set of colors, I feel her with a paintbrush
she will take me under her wings, and I'm gratefull

Instead of the natural, give me a new thought, an ideal, a dream
take me away from my thought, green butterfly, take me as your own
give me your though and your hopes and your wind
maybe my little field was always bright in the first place with you there