Like a butterfly he captured me,
kept me captivated in a little box made of glass.
Stroked my fragile wings
and called me beautiful as a sunrise in spring.
Fed me sweet nectar words
and stole my fluttering heart away.
He caressed my soul
and let me fly
within the confines of the little glass box
within which I lived.
Then my caretaker crushed my delicate wings,
my gorgeous leaves of life withered and died.
With one stone to my little glass haven,
my heart had broken
and my strength had shattered
into fragments of the vibrancy I was.
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