The Butterfly
How exquisite the butterfly
In silence he departs,
Fleeting wings that say goodbye
Leaves unaware a loving heart.
How quietly the butterfly
Released itself from memory.
Hidden tears that it may cry,
Are buried deep in agony.
And still it hopes with each new day
To find the one to Love so true,
In its short life, till it dies away-
To love and be loved is what it will do.
Cynthia Buhain Baello
April 2, 2010
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