Recoiled barbs still cut the same
Fly by night? …or flying in the night?
I sting like a butterfly!
I float….like a bee!
I’m not who you see at all
And it fills my soul with shame
You’re holding onto the string of my kite
But, you’re looking at the ground…not at the sky
I’m stuck in the wire, can you see me?
In the calm…before the squall