BHS- Where you want to go, if you love to write!
It was the size of a finger and not all that pretty
This caterpillar, it did not live in the city
Instead, it lived in a snug town, and it liked it that way
It was satisfied with its life, it was never in dismay
It had friends, it had love, this caterpillar was never alone
It had so little, yet was so grateful
It felt safe there, at home.
It sometimes felt hateful,
But little did it know, that was not the way to go
It soon found itself,
In what seemed like a shell
A cocoon, which was a tight fit,
It could barely even see through it
It told itself it wasn’t so bad,
It was going to get out soon,
No use in being sad.
Sooner or later it hatched, this cocoon
Alas, the caterpillar was set free
But what it found as it slipped out, did not bring it glee
Out spread some elegant wings,
Some colours, some patterns, all sorts of things
This caterpillar’s friends had been jumping with joy
They thought their new wings was a sight to enjoy
But the caterpillar disagreed,
“I want my old self back!” he would plead
Its loved ones had left it unintentionally
They flapped their wings and soared freely
But the caterpillar stayed there, as a new found butterfly
It did not wish to leave, it did not wish to fly
It cried and it wept all day,
It was no longer at home, the wind swept it away
It found itself lonely, no one nearby
To reassure it instead of wanting to die.
It did not like this change, did not like this life
Inside it was always a caterpillar, not a stunning butterfly
At night, it thought about everything it left behind, lay there awake
But there are some decisions that are just not yours to make.