I am not free.

I am not free. 
I am a butterfly 
trapped in a jar. 


The boys caught me in the wild, 
tricked me with their honeyed tongue. 
I fluttered my way out, 
they see it as a dance. 
Dance! Dance! Dance! 
They cried. 
Startled by the horrifying noise,
I fluttered some more. 
But all I could do,
Was making some weak noises on the glass.


The sun light scorches me.
The air boils. 
They ordered me to dance some more.
Shouting, yelling, screaming, 
Beating the jar, 
with eyes magnifying on the glass.
Then you will be free. They said. 
I fluttered, fluttered, fluttered some more. 


And my mind wandered. 
To the trees, the rivers, and the honey.
The flowers watched. 
Dancing with the breeze,
Silently, gently, danced with the breeze. 
I have grown tired. I thought.
So, so, so very tired.
And I started to dance, 
With the song of the nature,
I had truly loved. 


Ah, how ugly it is. The wings are broken.
It is no use for specimen now.
They opened the lid. 
And I fell out, quietly.
On the grass that nourished my childhood.
The sky, the sun, and the flowers looked at me.
That was some sweet honey. I thought.
Dream, dream, dream away.
And the boys grew
The flowers slept,
The earth hid my body away.


I am not free. 
I am a butterfly 
trapped in a jar.