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That Butterfly
I have seen that butterfly before flit in innocence from jasmine to rose, impaled by youth.
I have seen that cockroach slither out of primeval slime sadistically squashed by youth.
I have seen the tender greenest blades of grass reach out to the sun in search of love, crushed underfoot by youth.
I have seen such cruelty before, yet cannot fail to gape in stunned sadness as gentle sheep suddenly bare fangs and wound their shepherd.
Remove the mist from eyes squeezed dry of tears: Steel the heart to make it hard as the earth we tread and which awaits us.
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