In those days when we were children
We tried all manners of fool-around
Butterfly hunting brought real fun
Petals of paw-paw leaf at hand
The hollow trunk filled up with sand
The battle cry was sounded loud

We ran from wayside to the bush
Attacking all flying insects
Like unto war the kids charged on
Sand from barrels of papaya
Out to cripple colorful wings
The game was without twists and turns –
Not what it has turned out to be

Butterfly hunting has changed gear
Gangs fire shots in market places
Bombs explode in churches and mosques
Manhunt is now the new name of the game
Insecurity high on red alert
No one is safe here anymore

Butterfly hunting has changed face
Armed men are seen prowling the streets
Looking for terrorists to shoot
Extreme penalty thus enforced
Impunity is the order
You query not the status quo