Moth in a butterfly's body

I was born a butterfly.

For most of my life I believed I was a butterfly.

Growing up, everyone told me I'd become a beautiful monarch,

But now, I realize I'm a moth.

I'm a moth in a butterfly's body.

Deep down, there's still that little caterpillar that wants to be a pretty monarch one day.

But that caterpillar is no longer me.

Now, I'm in my cocoon trying desperately to pass off as a moth.

I want to be an emperor moth,

Distinct and proud.

But I'm neither

I blend into the background.

I want to be a rosey maple moth,

Cute and soft.

But the thought of it makes me sick

People will mistake me for a butterfly.

I want to be a comet moth,

Big and bold

But I'm hardly one

And pastel isn't in my pallet

I want to be a peacock jewel moth,

Flamboyant and memorable

But I'm quiet and reserved

Besides, I'm more of a shiny rock than a jewel

I want to be a lunar moth,

Mysterious and recognizable 

But I enjoy talking to others

And I fear I just blend into the crowd 

I want to be a death-head hawkmoth,

Dark and cool

But their style is expensive 

And I fear I'll still look like a butterfly 

Right now I'm a speckled wood butterfly,

But I'm trying to pass as a grape leaf folder moth.

I don't think it's working.

But I lie to myself that it is.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to be seen as a moth.

I hope I will,

But it's hard with limited resources.

I'll try my best, but I don't know if it'll work.