Happiness is a varicoloured butterfly
Fluttering like eyelashes, long ones
In the cold of December, eat buns
What else, what else rhymes…yes, runs
Youth is a fleeting dream, flitting
Like the butterfly aforementioned
Faded memories you carry into old age
Child of strife, a waif, ghosts by in stealth
Ho hum, a long drawn out sigh, expels breath
If this, this is all, all this is life’s sum
Then what do we do, in history’s bum
Oh look, a cotton puff cloud floating slow
Where have we come from, where to now?