Here in this fractured world
they rip the wings from butterflies
and bleach them.
They wring every color
and paint them on wedding dresses
that will never be worn.
And all we have left
are weeping brides
and innocent children
with heavy hearts.
they rip the wings from butterflies
and bleach them.
They wring every color
and paint them on wedding dresses
that will never be worn.
And all we have left
are weeping brides
and innocent children
with heavy hearts.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
This piece won the January 2011 Teen Ink Poetry Contest.
lkk4209
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