The Champion of the East Bay

I painted the wings on a butterfly
I painted a portrait based on your design
Began with the eyes and some measured grace
Tried keeping the colors within her constraints
Just as I was done, they whisked her away
Like she was the champion of the East Bay
To see her again, I’d do anything
If she had a song, I’d sing it every day
And I don’t know why I feel so bold
Chasing down a thing that I can’t hold
As if it would somehow make me whole
I caught you like a cold
If I wrote a song, brittle and brave
With so many words I don’t know how to say
I finished a draft and threw it away
If this is the end it seems like such a waste