When one sees words
They see pictures
When one sees black
They see colors
When one sees a plastic toy
Zooming in on a hand
They see mountains and a sky
and a flying butterfly

But when they grow old
One's mind's dull thanks to
The harshness of the world
But the creative minds
They still shine
In the dank, dark world
Where they see sparks and light
And a flying butterfly

Others try and dampen
The creative mind
They tease and say
It is nothing but a plastic toy
Zooming in on a hand
The olders, the dullers
They tell you to
Exit the sanctuary that
Keeps the creative minds
Warm and sound
Exit the sanctuary that
Keeps the one from
Being just another
Being just normal
Being just lame
Being just dull

But they shouldn't
They shouldn't tell those
Creative minds to quit
To dullen
And to die
Because its them that
Thrive in this normal
Lame
and
Dull world
Because its them that
Will make
And is
Making this world a better place
That is adding color
That is adding life
That is adding wonders of all kinds
Because its them that sees
A flying butterfly