The night is cold,
But the butterflies come out to play.
They are young and bold,
Playing all night until the dawn of day.
Their color lighting the night,
Their laughter bringing joy.
Blue, white, red, yellow, all are bright,
All as innocent as the youngest boy.
Dawn approaches and with it brings their end,
One last cheerful nightwas all thatwasleft.
Some joy they set out to lend,
And now their joy is all that is left.
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