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Butterfly Sad Poems | Sad Poems About Butterfly

These Butterfly Sad poems are examples of Sad poems about Butterfly. These are the best examples of Butterfly Sad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Light Poetry |

A Little Girl

Wearing rented robes and wet with tears
Tired and hungry with lifeless eyes
No shoes and no hope
None at all
Life a death sentence at this tender age
She sat on a rock, now robbed, even of her tears

A butterfly fluttered on by
Wings so golden, shining in the suns rays
She came to rest on the little girls arm
Looking up the butterfly saw the lost soul within
Spreading her wings, she danced in the air, saying
“Little one with a smile hidden deep
Do not fret, God is near”

The little girl, with no hope, raped of her happiness
Her heart bombed long ago
Gave a faint smile
She twirled once, her last dance before tumbling of hunger
Fainting to the ground while spiraling to the sky
Such is the sad moment upon this earth
As the butterfly took her up to heaven



Notes:
I saw a photo of a girl, alone amongst the ruins of bombed Syria, the image made you
want to reach out and save this poor soul. I have a sadness that I could not. I had no
 idea how to  express this, until a butterfly whispered in my ear.


Details | Concrete |

A Heart Lost and not Found

 




                                          
                                         This                                        heart
                                     is missing.                              Lost long ago.
                                   I cautioned it                          many times not
                                 to fall in love again                and again. but it never
                               listened to me.And fell            in  love  time and  again.
                           You know it is such a heart.    It weeps an ocean in sorrow.
                           It loves a lot.Like the vast blue sky above.Always spreading
                            its wings over the earth as if giving a shade.And expecting 
                            nothing in return.A childish heart is this.Seeing a rainbow 
                               in a rain drenched afternoon takes it to a wonderland 
                                 beyond this blue sky.And a butterfly always attract
                                   it like  a child.And it runs after that butterfly to
                                       catch it.Still in its dream it catches fireflies.
                                            And remember it can mingle with any
                                              heart.So check yours.If it is there
                                                    handle with care.For it is
                                                         very fragile.Fragile 
                                                              like a glass.
                                                                 =00=            
  


By:kash poet
 


Details | Personification |

Cocooned

Loneliness and sadness
Are my constant shadows.
My unsolicited friends.
They keep me company
In times when no one seems to understand.
They chose me to be their companion.
But, in retrospect, did I choose them?
I always wonder.

Over the years,
I tried to secure 
     my joys
        my happiness
           my fulfillment
               my pleasure
                    even my blissful dreams.
But, I guess, 
I've been unsuccessful.
I have to agree to the terms.
This alone seems clear to me.

Resigned is myself now.
Bound to solitude.
Welcoming no one but silence.
A complementary trio.
The mind thinks of solitude
While the heart sings of silence.
Life is a dull mystery.

But, still, I care to tell
a small portion of what life is.
So, I call to them.
This mysterious loneliness,
That strange sadness,
Lingering.
They want to be heard.
Yet, 
     they hesitate.
A nod towards shame.
And, so
they curl up
inside
like some caterpillar 
     taking refuge
        inside
          a dark cocoon.       
They breathe. 
They live. 
They thrive.
They become.
Like in some forest,
   carefully hidden.
The beauty is silenced;
                        confined within. 



Details | Carpe Diem |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Haiku |

Haiku 5 - mournful cries, way of nature, flight into eternity

mournful cries fill the air
mother bird calling for its baby
eaten by the cat

mantis catches butterfly
I am sad: yet, that is 
the way of nature

loud feathered thud
- flight into eternity
deceptive glass pane


Details | Lyric |

Dream Liberty -- Butterfly Effect

Butterflies quietly fluttering In my soul Transforming my life Morphing into something so unreal So Different, silently beautiful So hidden and lost A fire dances on my pale iced face Lively prancing as each sheds more light The embers glow in your singed shadow Was this eternity meant to last forever? I couldn't believe that a simple flap of butterfly wings could cause such a storm, a storm in my mind The simplest things causing the greatest of pains Why cant I be one of them Forever and free I'll be with my dream of liberty Punishing the dead Can you never let anything go Is it all to hard to see That your bias takes you on a blinded delusion Where all they plunder is hate Terror is a virtue When becoming a king So cut off the strings of my life With your power And you will see the strength of the dream of Liberty I couldn't believe that a simple flap of butterfly wings could cause such a storm, a storm in my mind The simplest things causing the greatest of pains Why cant I be one of them Forever and free I'll be with my dream of liberty I couldn't believe that a simple flap of butterfly wings could cause such a storm, a storm in my mind The simplest things causing the greatest of pains Why cant I be one of them Forever and free I'll be with my dream of liberty


Details | Free verse |

Butterfly

It was on the beat of butterfly wings, 
We became torn (micro-emotion fibers worn), 
Like pages from a discarded journal, 
Always said we knew what we were doing, 
Until all that we did was done, 
I thought that we grew yet 
I'm still just a caterpillar waiting to cocoon, 
But I don't know how to do it (it was supposed to be a natural thing), 
I hear the gentle beat of butterfly wings above me, 
Its simple life a distant disaster, 
A record of things ignored (so small, can't be my fault), 
Someone's bad karma.


Details | Free verse |

THE OLD MAN AND THE BUTTERFLY

THE OLD MAN AND THE BUTTERFLY

How many wishes and hopes pass through a man's mind?
This is what I am thinking about while looking
into the sad face of an old man
who is motionlessly starring into the distance,
as if down there,
in the blue eye of the dreamy sea
he shall find all the answers.
And while the turquoise hands of the moon drive the shadows
into the old man's embrace,
a turquoise butterfly merrily flaps its wings
and radiates rays of light
along the dark ridges of this warm summer night
above his trembling tired head.
Perhaps this is the reason why
the old man's sad face looks up
instead of down,
why the sparkle of life still glows
in his tired eyes.
This butterfly is very young,
but his noble parentage is very old,
and that noble parentage used to spread its turquoise light
in the times of the old man's parents
and grandparents,
back in the time when hope was born
(and people say that hopes are younger than solitude).
It seems that the old man feels it,
and he raises his tired eyes whenever he hears
the harmonious sound of the butterfly's turquoise wings,
and death,
like a dark lady,
respectfully waits for its turn,
as if it took pity on the old man's boyish gaze;

How many wishes and hopes pass through a man's mind
while he helplessly sits
and waits for death?
I wonder where his thoughts are traveling now
and which soul in heaven do they touch?
His mother's soul?
His father's soul?
His brother's and sister's souls? 
Because souls are like butterflies,
crawling the earth with people,
only to eventually fly up to the sky,
perfectly free and magically bright.
All of this must be passing through the old man's thoughts
while he looks at the turquoise butterfly
in such a childish and lively manner.
Everything on him is dead,
apart from that childish gaze,
which makes his old man's thoughts so young
and so full of hope
that his soul might soon enough fly up
like his dear butterfly;

How many wishes and hopes pass through a man's mind;
yes, Lord, how many wishes and hopes are passing
my old father's mind now.
 
©Walter William Safar