Diverted by a Butterfly

She doesn’t listen to warnings,

Of mind your manners and don’t fight.

She hates the mornings,

But revels in the late hours of the night.

She doesn’t worry about the weather;

She goes dancing in the snow and rain.

Light on her feet as a feather

Yet nearly always feeling pain.

She does not understand how to detach

Torments of emotion and erratic attitude.

Can do as much damage as striking a match.

I do not receive nearly enough gratitude.

I do not understand,

I am not versed in her lines

I am made from a different brand

We are all distinctive kinds.

She is distracted by the sunrise.

She is much too bold

And far too old

To be diverted by a butterfly.