The Struggle Within

I was moving so slowly,
So weak. Afraid of getting lost,
Afraid of dying. I made my way
Through life, just eating most
Of whatever came before me.

I wondered at the purpose
Of the birth and life of my ugly self,
Walking on a million legs, slowly.
Oh, why wasn't I the dolphin which delved
Into the ocean or the bird which cooed away?

When I saw all the holes I had made
On all the leaves, I thought desolately
I was just of no use. I'd shrunk into myself
In hopelessness and dismay, deliberately.
I was dying slowly within, wishing I wasn't me.

I cocooned myself in my misery,
Erecting a silky, but strong barrier
Between me and the world. I cried
In the dark, never having left sorrier
For being a useless, silly little worm.

I struggled inside my cozy cocoon;
Changes aren't always for the best,
And changes frightened me too much.
I couldn't think that everything was just a test
To my patience, hope and all other virtues.

The cocoon protected me from the world,
But it proved not useful against my inhibitions.
I put myself down, I wished I could die.
My life seemed to be a poor image, with distortions,
Many and varied. I blamed and pitied myself.

Too suddenly, the biggest change happened.
I was forced to lose my only protection, the cocoon.
I shut my eyes tight, fearing the world's scorn,
Afraid of facing the dangerous world so, so soon.
I was going to fall, deep down and disappear...

But I didn't. I opened my eyes, slowly, softly,
Scared to wish, afraid of hoping, believing.
I was flying! This must be just another dream!
I could fly, free, unafraid - oh, what a feeling!
I'd never felt that way before, never in my life.

I'm lonely no more! I'm ugly no more,
I'm not unwanted, unloved, unimportant -
Not ever. I could kiss the beautiful flowers,
I could hug the sky. I have all I could want!
I could even caress the people, and kiss the sun!

I have wished I was born as the dolphin.
But a dolphin couldn't fly, or hide behind the clouds!
I have wished I was created as a bird.
But birds couldn't sit on a flower daintily, or be proud
Of wings that were like God's own color palette!

I wonder at the purpose of my life no more.
All the misery, and the endless struggles within,
All the welling unhappiness - they seem meaningless
No more. All my sorrow, all the pain I'd been in
Had been only to make me the butterfly I'm today.