A small little insect
On a hot sultry noon
Makes it way
Out of its cosy cocoon.
Slides on the green leaf
Dotted with a drop of dew
The little one awaits changes
Unknown and new.
Then comes the dull moth
For its moments of struggle
To turn into a a butterfly
All the time it wriggles.
Brightly colored butterfly
Flies, happy and gay
Surpasses all the struggles
To live life of a day.
© Shibi Varghese, 2010
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