Butterflies With Time
The trees turning back to green,
Ghouls and ghosts become more real with each Halloween.
I sit down by a tree,
and i relax and think, about life, about me.
And this is where i had my epiphany.
Everything changes, in each second we live.
Becoming harsher, meaner, funner, more grown-up.
Some of us lose our imaginations.
The kids at heart, like a ghost in the fog,
are never going to be found.
I look up at the sky.
I look up and sigh.
I have changed, many a time.
From happy, to sad, suicidal, and mad.
To finally halfway numb.
He had changed,
he had lied.
A hundred dead butterflies,
once so beautiful this tragedy.
A life filled with hypocrisy.
The trees now burn with gold,
And i am fourteen now,
This world i see with childish, teenaged eyes.
Seems horrible at a glances first meet.
But then I see a butterfly,
and i smile, a tear gleaming in my eye.
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