Let my words be the moon,
shining bright under the dark
sky

especially when you feel
down, wondering why life is hard.

And let them fall to you like
a shooting star so you can
make a wish to soothe why some days are bad.

If morning comes, I don’t want
to be the sun that shines so
bright.

For sure enough your eyes won’t like my light.

So, I choose to become a butterfly
and you won’t have to ask me why.

We could be like kids again, chase each other and just play,

because life must not be lived in a hard way.

Life is meant, at least once, to be happy.