Is It Poetry
Where has love in darkness cold has come.
Where light is warm upon closed eyes the young.
Spinning out the silk one spider waits.
Butterflies that flutter fly around.
Red as love the heart is beating ever fond.
Green each leaf brown moss upon the limb.
Young sad eyes that look into the sun.
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Comments about this poem (Red Butterflies by Is It Poetry )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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William Ernest Henley
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