Caterpillar
Here I am
being a prisioner
of my own body.
A 30 yr. old mind
trapped in a body
of only 17.
I am a caterpillar
that has grown
premature wings
that carry as much
trouble as they do beauty.
Yes, I have wings
but am unable to use them,
so I have to crawl.
I don't want to crawl,
I want to fly!!!
I crawl among the rest
of the caterpillars
who don't mind not
having wings,
but they exclude me,
they seclude me,
constantly reminding me
I am different,
I have wings.
The butterflies don't want me,
they can't accept me.
They remind me that
though I have wings
I cannot use them.
So I find myself
in the middle,
yet not being either.
What do I do?
Do I tear the wings
off my back
and act as if I don't
mind not having them,
risking never to grow them again?
Or do I crawl to great heights
and try to fly
knowing I may plunge
into a crash
and scrape my face
while the rest of
the butterflies watch,
point, and say,
"We always said
those wings were
no good."?
Or do I continue
Being both
and yet not either,
awaiting a death
as premature
as these wings?