Her laughter drowns a story she keeps untold.
Her smile masks a heart that ever grows cold.
Her every step is forward but pulled back in haste.
Her desire is to one day find the courage to say:
“I am sorry I robbed you of that pedestal step;
A first born of correct codes was your bet;
I am sorry I was not correct;
Yes, he would have been so perfect…”
“I will never be worthy of your family crest;
But maybe I can be second best;
I will continue to do what I can to impress;
I hope to make it up to you one day, and nothing less…”
My stories have been told for eons;
Je suis un jeune papillon…
I feed on nectar gifted to me;
Ça me montre de la beauté…
I desire to deliver;
Nourriture pour votre âme…
So I choose to gift to you,
Mon art, mon tout…
A girl has two Moms.
First Mom drew her bath,
and wrote her path,
and taught her place in life,
so that she shall be a good wife…
Second Mom heard her dreams,
and listened as tears streamed,
and taught her how to fly,
so that she can be a wild butterfly…
Her First Mom’s words are still there.
Her Second Mom’s aura remains there.
Every year she becomes wiser in this world.
But in her heart, is still that little girl.
Such circles we walk in, day in, day out…
How many smiles can she fake in a mile?
So many unspoken words, silence wants to shout…
How many turns before the wheel finally burns?
Such sufferings in this world, scattered about…
How many tears will she cry before asking why?
So little candlelight, all so dim now…
How can tomorrow ever know her sorrow?
Open your eyes and see;
Find a seed.
Open your mind and believe;
Grow a tree.
Listen to them speak;
Wise words indeed.
Let your heart be free;
Make your own destiny.
With Love, Jessie