Excited to get out of
My egg of childhood,
Willing to know
And travel this world,
Experiencing life
As full as I can.
With a bite of
Every problem,
I grow,
Better than yesterday,
A little to work
For tomorrow.
And with every new
Problem,
I get better,
Better in growing,
Better in flying.
Just like the people
Within my life,
I first crawl on
Those Green leaves
And try to judge
Their taste.
And then,
I eat them
With their sour
But admirable flaws,
And slowly,
I learn that
None of them is flawless
But everyone is different
In taste.
Then I notice
The stalk,
Of the plant
That I live on.
It is full of
Spines and Thorns.
And I also learn
To get past them
Without letting myself hurt.
But I am imperfect.
Some of them do hurt,
And hurt deep,
Leaving the scars
And the broken skin.
They are like some
Of the situations
I had to get past through.
And as I get hurt,
I heal,
And grow.
But
When I feel weak and exhausted
With the times I tried to
Embrace myself,
I cuddle myself up
Into a cocoon
With a promise to
Get up as a
Butterfly in the
Morning.