Insulted I barked/
Do you wish to be squashed/
The butterfly replied/
How do you intend to catch me/
With your clipped wings/
I will crush you and rip apart those things/
I said lets see you try and fly then/
Aah a monster pretending to be a writer with a pen/
Mocked the fragile looking creature/
Dead or alive/
Wing or no wings/
I would still be colourful, created to fly a beautiful butterfly/
While you with your burned out pen and rusty imagination can only still try/
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