( Canehill )

Jerusalem

( Extract from 'Jerusalem' )

Butterlies

Even the force of my words could hurt you, crush your wings.

Your hands will always seem small to my flesh, and you will always be fragile. I have natural force.

But still

I am not perfect, i will always be a little scruffy. My hair will always be a little matted and i will never be little.

( Elizabeth; )