Not here to stay

The crimson flower offered its shoulder

while you, the butterfly pass by

You knew you're not here to stay

Yet its color catches your eye.

 The thorn warned the flower,'Psst,'Do not attach,

For a butterfly cannot mend its ways

A momentary presence is all you will get

before the butterfly takes flight away.

The flower blushes on, in denial,

With its every petal, and ignorant chaste

The butterfly, enraptured and tantalized

feeds on the flowers sweet taste

It hovers around longer than usual

making the flower convinced indeed

For what the butterfly itself lacked,

the flower knew: It fills complete

And thus the flower bloomed,

but for whom?

You are not here to stay.

'For that #!%$ transient butterfly!!',

the thorn fumed

But why?

You are not here to stay

Then soon of course, comes a time

When true to its nature 

the butterfly ups and leaves

in search of other flowers;

to hover,

to attach,

to feed.

And yet
The flower bloomed,

but for whom?

You were not here to stay,

Regardless of a predicament that is doomed

Even when you are not here to stay.