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We don’t harass.
Our path doesn’t always feel like the one we wanted, but it’s the one we walk. Struggle to break free, with your every fiber, or our next generations will be even more convinced that there is no other way
A butterfly with freedom flutters
Found a nasty net
It could be found by other nutters
Who haven’t woken yet
Instead it’s me, to grab with glee
Reduce its range of flight
Stick it on a nail, they’ll see
I’ve labeled species right
My progeny will surely find
That something which I knew
A flighted soul I thought to bind
Of butter which once flew
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