Captured And Pinned
In it’s own personal graveyard
A butterfly’s life span
Is usually quite short,
You captured it in a jar
As some type of sport.
***
No way of escaping
Can only wait to die,
Do you feel no pity
For this waste of life?
***
Locked in it’s jar
Waiting to perish,
You’ll argue that
It’ll be cherished.
***
In a plastic box
Body pierced with a pin
Positioned carefully
Starch in it’s wings
***
You’ll print it’s name
On a little white card,
Mounted below it’s box
In it’s own graveyard.
***
Something to stare at
No longer any use,
Wish you were this butterfly
And this happened to you.
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About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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