My heart has gossamer wings,

much like a butterfly.

So frail and fragile to the touch

yet let me soar so high.

They sparkle in the sunshine

and glow all through the night-

perhaps you cannot tell

just with naked sight.

Tis sad you'll never see them,

my heart has all been bled.

Someone plucked my gossamer wings;

my heart's long since been dead.~