Little butterflies collect on your tiny white dress,
the sun is soaked into your golden hair,
and you are twirling and dancing in the wind.
Smiling at life, even though it's hurt you.
Laughing at all that surrounds you.
But now winter has come,
and butterflies no longer collect on your tiny white dress.
Your innocence is caught in the middle of the storm,
and dulls your sun soaked hair.
I fear you won't smile at life, or laugh at all that surrounds you and become faded as one of us.
I don't want you or your siblings to hurt, and for awhile it might have to be this way.
But please promise me, when summer comes again that butterflies will collect on your growing white dress,
the sun always will soak your Golden hair,
that you will always twirl and dance in the wind
and that no matter what you will always smile and laugh.
Remember I'll always be there for that smile and laugh because I love you and the wars will pass.