Breaking from the cacoon,

Warm, safe; a protection, a shield.

Wet wings, unfurling,

tasting the first breath of morning,

seeing the world with new eyes.


An ugly catapillar,

growing, eating, learning,

the Innocence of Childhood.

A wormish thing,

to a Butterfly in all her beauty.


A woman, from a child;

feeling strange and out of place.

Yesterday seems to distant,

Life's first waves,

coming ashore.


Looking in the mirror,

I see myself;

I'm the same, yet someone else.

Who have I become?

The End

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