Come little butterfly, sit on my hand.
Let’s go together exploring this land.
I’ll carry you over the babbling brook;
you won’t have to fly, you’ll just have to look.
I won’t let you fall as I run through the trees.
I’ll hold you close, even if there’s a breeze.
The difference won’t matter, between wings and feet,
since we are good friends and our friendship runs deep.
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