someday’s it’s harder than others, our thoughts take over, our minds in the gutter. All we believe are the shadows within, time lasts forever, our heart’s given in. You watch all the butterflies, eliminate their struggles, and feel like you’re forever stuck in this bubble. How can it be that they’re all flying free? You ask all around for the help that you seek and everyone who promises, never do they keep. So how do these butterflies soar to success? If nobody will help you through all of the mess? I have to believe that luck comes from the good, the kindest of hearts, when no one else would. Only…
