How quick goes by a butterfly, And, why? You say you care, but you don't know? Off to find a hidden rainbow? Maybe yes and maybe no. Gone, Quick as a song, And long, Before the end of days, Before this leaf decays, Before this fish has swum away, downstream, Out of my mind, out of my dream. What does it mean?
Nothing, or, whatever you wish.
Written by V. Castellanos – Spring, 2018