Oh my misshapen butterfly,
I am so glad you can still fly.

You didn't want to come out right at first,
as if I had crooked hands that were also cursed.

Everything I did looked flat,
like someone took a shoe, and splat!

I sat there thinking about you,
until I myself, became blue.

But as I finally painted you on my eighteenth try,
you became my favorite butterfly.

Butterfly,
I am glad you can still fly.

You did show me the way,
and it was right in front of me all day.

To put it simply, The wing that stands taller,
must be of different color.

But this is not just about shadows,
and not even the pose.

It is the magic of wings,
it is just one of those things.

There is a lot of magic in art,
it is how you tell art from reality apart.

Art helps us create worlds that cannot be,
art, sets our imagination, truly free.