I found a pretty, little butterfly
Trapped in my living room, one day.
It flapped its wings against the window,
Tirelessly – hopelessly –
Fighting hard to reach the outside world:
The sky, the wind, the sunlight gleam.
“Don’t worry, little thing,” said I.
“I’ll set you free, you’ll see.”
I opened the window to let it fly away
To freedom and – OH! –
It flew straight into a spider’s web
And ended in the spinner’s mouth!
I felt so sorry and began to sob,
“I thought I was doing good…”
But you were, said a still, small voice.
To the starving spider.