AuburnScribbler

Butterfly

Nervousness bubbles inside of me, so the nausea sets in,

Making my actions sluggish, like the caterpillar walking,

I crawl on my front bearing a front that will indeed repel,

Through such conduct, I may want Heaven, but I will get Hell,  

 

The others make it seem so easy, it’s like they do not care,

As considerate thinking, not winking, should be more fair,

It’s tears away at my analysis, breaking me into paralysis,

Of self, not knowing, what, when, how, should I exist?  

 

“I clearly understand your fear, it shows you have some passion,

But, if you want Heaven, then bear more attractive fashion.”

A good kind voice whispers, into me, the caterpillar man,

Injecting a positive push to me, so this fear I can ban.  

 

So, I enter into certain place, which I will call my cocoon,

Then I burst out, to spread my wings, give me plenty of room,

I clean off the dirt, from the floor, the ethos that made me sigh,

No longer crawling, escape the appalling, I am a Butterfly.