The women of the world are like butterflies in a field,

For there is beauty all around me.

Mostly, they fly right before my eyes,

Yet, its the beauty that's held withn them that is truely breath-taking.

However, it's with these hand I may never touch,

Almost as if I'm cursed.

Like the unlucky butterfly collector,

For there's a field of remarkabe butterflies and yet not one of them am I able to catch.