Reluctant Metamorphosis


Caterpillars rarely seem content with the lot

Given to them; with secret wishes of flying

On wings of colored satin filling their dreams

At night. Yet I was at ease with my simple

Life of green experience. I was satisfied

With my lot, never longing for brighter

Days in the sun. Now comes the time

For me to transform; a new stage of

My being begins to fight its

Way to the light. Harsh truths

Cause me to itch. Cold reality

Makes my hide shrivel and die

All around me; the coat beneath

Crawling to the surface to breathe.

I shed my childhood skin and watch as the pieces

Drift slowly to the floor. How can these flakes

That have housed so many fond memories,

So many hopeful dreams and eager wishes

Drift so slowly to the damp ground?

How can they leave me so easily,

As if they were never a true part

Of myself; as if this skin never truly fit?

Clinging to the decay at my feet,

I cry in anguish over my lost days.

I morn my last life, wanting nothing

More than to live it again, to be

As simple and ignorant as I once was;

A state I will never return to.


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