A Butterfly In The Garden
A poem about life's roads.
What shall they become
In the garden of the future
Some are soaked in gin and rum, and
Others are chasing lives of a different nature
Blooming outward from their cocoon
Fresh lives for them to live
Under the darkness and below the crescent moon
Of what will those souls truly give
What will they become inside the gardens of our time
Some of beauty and abundance as they flutter around
Others thriving among the dirt and the grime
Their future purpose just waiting to be found
Will there be pretty, pretty butterflies within the garden of the dark
As some embrace a purpose unbelievable to others who win
It's not only the saints who hit their destined mark
Destiny finds even those who live lives filled by the wages of sin
Those who feel the heat of hell's icy grasp burn in the wrong garden
Wings cinged by evil's flame
They only glow in the night, never receiving fate's pardon
Only glowing in the night, part of some sinister game
What will they become in the garden of the future
Their fates are decided from the moment of their birth
Decisions they face are hard ones to be sure
As the young butterflies flutter around finding their worth
About the Creator
Jason Ray Morton
Writing has become more important as I live with cancer. It's a therapy, it's an escape, and it's a way to do something lasting that hopefully leaves an impression.
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Comments (1)
Why is it so often it's the ones handed life on a sliver platter who fritter their away while those who must struggle the most turn into butterflies? The caterpillar requires the struggle through the cocoon to fill out its wings & be able to fly. Without that struggle, their wings remain stunted & they left to crawl on the ground.