Butterfly
I found rainbows in my eyes today I found rainbows in my mouth today rainbows in my soul and wings to fly, fly, fly I saw myself weaving in and out of my life I saw myself shedding old skin a metamorphosis of many colors Liken me to a new soul dancing into my new skin I too am a wonder-filled creature unfolding strange and free Butterflies cannot be caught You can't hinder a butterfly just smile bless it and let-it-go Release me I, butterfly unfolding strange and free
Rebirth
Take me not for your footstool because my words are sometimes soft soft soft What happens to the little girls the little girls the little girls What happens to the little girls who become women who give too much taught that it's love that will set you free from insecurity and fears that people call unreasonable and physical pain people say is only imagined
What happens to the little girls who become women who give too much locating what you think is the heart of a man behind the handsome face with locks or the Brooks Brother brotha what you think is the heart of a man passionate yet vulnerable is really unavailable and unwilling to be open the way you need
What happens to the little girls who become women who give too much too much love, too much time, too much loyalty, too much admiration, too much adoration, too much bending over backwardness to soothe, cajole and change the mind of an irrational, unavailable half-heart you see prior strength turns to too little self care becoming weak, needy and unbalanced in the eyes of your desire
What happens to the little girls who become women who give too much searching for self in the mold of another left limp and dry, desperate with an abundance of tears forming rivers of your dreams around you calling for rebirth, rebirth, rebirth
What happens to the little girls who become women who give too much God becomes your savior a plea to guardians and Jesus mental searches of your psychic past and chaotic present come rushing to mind Spiritual workings from the heavens above wrap around your body and spirit to come in and do your surgery as you lay in the dark recovery of your soul calling out for rebirth, rebirth, rebirth
You see, loss of self becomes newfound identity Love looks different now the little girl smiles the woman never forgets
Copyright © 2001, 2002 DuEwa M. Frazier, Lit Noire Publishing
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