Butterflies Flutter By

A bus ride that is quiet, but not free. You grab my hand and follow me to safety. Police dance the mambo and step in after us, guns blazing. It is all a mystery. I look up and you never look down on me. It is okay to not see so that I can use my intellect when it is correct. Protection of others has been my whole life. The waters are mixing and protection of ME is about to be without heracy disease. I keep things firm and just and I do not bust. The MOON rotates in his eyes and there is a similarity. Maybe the blindness to be kind to those butterflies who are common is necessary, but limiting it is what needs to be. A butterfly with white linen wings flies past me and fly into the sunshine. I take the diversion and look down the street. It is okay to count the days with a razor sharp gaze. Let's not look back at the mistakes, but laugh with mirth and glee at the time you had with me unfettered, in Muncie.