Er zint iets me niet aan dit gedicht. /Zoals wel vaker bij de dingen die ik schrijf, maarja/ En volgens mij klopt er het één en ander niet aan het Engels. Dus kritiek enzo is weer welkom!
Bleeding Butterfly This is my place, the one where I belong. Here in the sky it can't go wrong.
It just feels so right, to fly and to be. I love this place, it's home to me.
Coming to those places, where the wind me brings. No need for anything, just me and my wings.
But suddenly it goes wrong, I feel stabbed or hit. I'm falling down; will this be it?
Will this be the end, of all my dreams? I fall on the ground, which is just as hard as it seems.
And as I try to get up again, and try to reach the sky, my weight just pulls me under; I'm a bleeding butterfly.