One day, I want to look through these little eyes
with a fond smile rather than a heavy sorrowed frown.
And I wish that too, I would raise my head up high
without having to meet their judgmental eyes.
Maybe the stars would shine brighter
if the dull me wasn't here in this world;
and maybe I'm just an idiot not knowing the world,
a naive fool I was, like some misguided butterfly
trapped in orange-lit flames, ending their small lives.
But I'm different here, my life's just beginning:
and though dying has always been imprinted in my mind,
I still want to see my life, to hold on, to the very end-
how I'd not give up and fall off the narrow path
and halfway through I might start to see the light.