A mans' intentions,
The heart of a woman,
A butterfly flutter,
A babies' first sound,
The smile of a mother,
Toddlers' first step,
Then off to a run,
Teen years and prom,
Promiscuous fun,
Girl left with broken heart,
Tell-tale signs of butterfly wings,
Football jock plays the game,
Never settles for any girls' tears,
Now, gray hair and regrets,
And never a dad,
Deaths' pallor shows his remorse,
As time lurks,
In clinch-fisted hand,
His breath leaves,
With one last gasp,
Leaving these words,
For others to heed,
"Desire follows the pattern of life."
But none were there to hear what he said,
Though he just died,
He was already dead.
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