Sunshine,
Summertime,
Chasing butterflies,
Racing riverside,
Daylight stutters by,
Night-time: come alive,
Day-time: just survive.
Hazy, heady, hateful, headache.
Appetite diminished,
Heartbreak.
A masterpiece, perfected plan,
Unravelled by the hands of man.
Sonata on a broken lute -
A ditty on a crooked flute,
Sordid, imperfected tune.
Ashes smoulder at my feet,
Another sundance, now complete.
Another stable torn to pieces,
Another victim of disease.
And the only colour left at all,
Stood by a crumbled, fallen, wall,
A rainbow moth trapped in a jar,
A pretty little summer scar;
Tattooed upon this broken structure,
A little to remind me of the,
Sunshine,
Summer,
Summertime,
When we went chasing butterflies.
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