Paper butterflies hang from a thread
they dare me to abandon my teary bed...

Mama used to sing on those stuffy days
when a storm locked everyone inside...

I first learned to smile
because you shared your happiness...

My Lord, your eyes are filled with such humble...
reading our hearts and understanding what we truly...

Murky shadows suffocated
as heavy clouds pressed against my back...

When the sun paints passion
caressing my heartbeat...

You capture my breath
I'm on the verge of mesmerizing death...

My acrobatic butterfly,
if you simply twist and spin this way...

Your winged hellos glide
across smooth starless sky...

Are you seriously going to make another cup of...
Put the mug down- before you mind is numbed in...

Don't you want to go back to those sunlit days
where we would stretch our hands and catch golden...

Do you remember the fiddler on ole sycamore tree?
It was given another chance to solely play...