I wonder about the caterpillar.
If it could express it's feelings would it rail at the world?
Would it be angry that people seem to wait for it to turn into a butterfly to say,'How Beautiful'!
Or would it be eagerly waiting with humming excitement for the day it turned into a butterfly?
For when it stop being so mediocre and became something that could fly and look beautiful?
Or would it just chomp away at the leaf rhythmically, living for each day
In uncaring indifference of what comes next.
Or would it wish to be acknowledged for being who it is
Placid in life, content to just nibble at the leaf
Not really longing to become the butterfly
