Butterfly in My Pocket
I have a butterfly in my pocket,
that will never fly again.
When I think back to yesterday,
it’s a pretty reminder of my pain.
Butterflies aren’t meant for pockets,
you my dear were not meant for me.
I have my pretty reminder,
that without me you are free.
We kissed in the sunlight,
a butterfly landed on your toes.
It elicited smiles and laughter,
I loved how you crinkled your nose.
Bright skies filled with clouds,
in just a matter of days.
A butterfly stays just a season,
how I miss your delicate ways.
You left me without warning,
I saw our butterfly on the ground.
Like you no words were spoken,
my heart made a breaking sound.
So I put our butterfly in my pocket,
imagined you flying again.
I’m left to ponder my sorrow,
with a pretty reminder of my pain.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2019
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.