stumblin’ into a good day…

lives of butterflies

sentience is a curse
under most conditions;
without a way out
of paper thin tautologies,
maxed out credit cards;
that kind of thing. and no,
i don’t need a drink, just
a minute to think, and maybe
a cigarette.

penance of a good day;
with no way of knowing
’till the day is done;
i can’t escape asking
if the same is true of life.

halfway through my cigarette
lost in daydream-laden skies
behind what’s left of the
evening, just piling up
with no hint of ever ending,
even though i know it will.

stub it out and go inside.
didn’t close the door fast enough,
and a butterfly flew in
with me. let it fly; a butterfly
never hurt much before.
sooner or later, it’ll tire of
moving around the house and
escape outside. there’s
nothing for a butterfly in here.

2 Responses to “stumblin’ into a good day…”

  1. it makes me think of that last cigarette at night.
    its always so peaceful outside late at night.
    You captured that feel

    • Thanks man. I do like that feeling of smoking one last cigarette on the day and knowing when it’s out, the day is done. Anyhow thanks for the comment. Good hearing from you.

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