I'm not much into talk. I never was and probably never will be. Please, just listen. It was where all those milkweed are behind the shed. And she'd just come out of her chrysallis.
Wings still damp and fragile, brand new and beautiful in the morning sun.
And I thought, that's you. That's the way it's meant to be. You were meant to leave, to fly somewhere out in the big world, and you'll do it. I know you will. But not me.