Dead butterflies

Dead butterflies

Your pretty words

Are complete nonsense,

Escaping your lips

Only to fall down

Like dead butterflies.

Only a fool can remark,

Their inner beauty,

Justify the crime

Of being empty inside.

So you feed the naive souls,

With lies and crave for their existence

In your life and head,

Because otherwise...

You’ll turn into a butterfly yourself...

© Laura Dambite, 2014.

Some can’t live without lies anymore, it’s not a bad habit or an addiction, it’s the only way of living, achieving and gaining attention they know…

Despair

Despair

A wish to be found,

Turns into despair,

And in every stranger eyes,

You search a reflection of yours.

But all you get is promises of liars,

They count how much your soul is worth,

And will take all without hesitation

Until you’re, again, poor and lost.

But still you go on,

Hope is the only thing you can afford,

Because in their values,

Feelings have the lowest costs.

This is how our world spins,

They have bought our time,

And all it’s left is to yearn,

For days that can’t be rewind.

© Laura Dambite, 2013.

Gray and endless days only show how cold and empty we can be inside… still we childishly hope, we’re only lost and someone can find us and warm our hearts…