Butterfly Thoughts

Thoughts flitting about in my head, like trapped birds
Or butterflies, wings traveling at heartrending speeds
They go so fast, they're hard to catch
And when caught, hard to hold on to

I caught a beautiful butterfly, but I let it slip away
My fingers were too weak to hold its rapid wings
It was a wish, a want, a need; but now it's gone
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind it waits
 And plots, for the next time I'm insomniatic
Then it shall spring forth, only to get loose again

Fingers of the mind
Weakened by lack of sleep
And an overpowering number of thoughts

They cannot hold onto these butterflies
Strong and young and fresh as they are,
Not concious of life or the lack thereof outside of their own glorious
beings

These butterflies fall silent in the light.
One or two will spring forth, and bring the mind to life
But the great cacophony of fluttering wings is silent

Oh, for the strength and vitality of the butterflies
Oh, to be able to hold on to them, to grasp their knowledge
Oh, to remember my ideas, brilliant as they may be.
Oh that they would shut up and let me sleep.