The Butterfly

The words they stung, the letters hurt,
on lips on school walls they liked to insert
a cruel joke, a vicious phrase,
how did I live to tell this phase?

It started with quiet rejection,
then it spread like a bad infection.
First I lost a sacred friend
I lost them all before the end.

It never had occurred to me
that being truthful, being free
would hurt so much, would sting like hell,
that my best friend would be the one to tell
them all what I had told to her,
in confidence, I had made her swear.

But word got out and soon I met
the loneliness inside my head
and inside my tender heart.

It stayed for years, my only friend
but now I’ll tell you, in the end
the hope and love that came hereafter
will clean the loneliness with laughter
and every word and stinging phrase
is wept away by people’s praise.

The darkness and the isolation 
will end, just have a little patience,
because you, too, will see that soon
it will get better, and out of the cocoon
will hatch a beautiful butterfly
who hurt in the past but learned to fly,
who almost gave up but made it out alive.