Landing

The Butterfly had a story

Had to tiller

About when it was a catterpillar

green, low selfesteem

obese depressed, going from leaf to leaf

bush to bush, tree to tree

witnessing the tradgedy of others

smushed to mush, slow never in a rush

even though there were more than a few

brushes with death, everyone loved were gone

nothing left but giving up, crept upon a stone

giving into fate, hoping to die and never wake

smothering and struggling inside of a cacoon

it struggled to be free and fly and it did and so did I