"Polluted Intentions..."

I was walking home from work today,
and a butterful landed on my shoulder.

I found it not at all,
how in the middle of fall,
this creature so beautiful could be resting on ME.

I stared at it for what felt like forever,
and then it ran away from me.
Not in furry but to lure me into what could never be my own.

Down the street from wonderful, around the corner from success.
I found myself in a palace that would never be my home.

I hated that butterfly,
for misleading me into thinking I was in fact more, than fiction.

My heart begins to mourn the lost of my identity.
It tried to make up to me by smiling until the winter began
I wish it would stay just the night and die on the way home.

I wanted it to suffer as have to in the past.
Wanting his moment of pain to forever last.

It had decived me like so many in the past had, and this moment in time the polluted intentions were mine.

What have I become?

Schütze