The Speckled Butterfly
Mourn with the speckled butterfly Who was once a flawless caterpillar, Now drinking on flower cups as the sun is high; She was once nibbling her roof during a storm signal. While the other insects adored her beauty, They know not of her imperfection. They sang her praises gently; But her bee-dad buzzed about her spots all afternoon. The bee, who was her adoptive father, Kept nagging at her scornfully, Anything she did wouldn't matter; Only when she could produce honey.
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