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Butterflies

     #writing #poem

Seek not, at the wave of thy hand,
To change the dearthy world.
But do count the strides,
Big or small, thou taketh
In shaping the earthy mould.

With these decade old words stinking of youthful pomp and righteousness,
I begin my attempt to walk over my self-doubt, move past my inadequacies,
and spill my guts to set the butterflies free. Let’s talk about little things, in tiny strides.