The Senti Me

The sentimental me
Goes to the winds,
As no one does comment
Upon my wings
For they all like to fly,
Like a butter fly,
To eternity
Where no fly
Can fly
A flight so lonely

I leave behind my virtuous self
And
No more desire any glorification
As to words life’s sojourn
Comes an end,
My determination does fend,
As my desire of poetic appreciation
Now comes to a conclusive end