Metamorphosis.
Either a metaphor, or butterflies.
In my opinion, the metaphor is overused.
Like,
We get it,
You’ve “changed” for the better
You’re a new person
And,
In earnest,
Good for you.
So let’s talk butterflies.
Before the wings,
There is the worm.
A little caterpillar
Scrunching around on the ground
Or chilling on leaves up in trees
Trying to avoid bike tires and birds.
When it’s time,
Silk spit!
The caterpillar forms a chrysalis,
Cocooning it’s body in a snug hug.
Once in the cocoon,
The caterpillar transforms itself not into a butterfly,
But first,
Mush.
Caterpillar soup.
(so get ready,)
(here it comes,) Your deep metaphorical analysis of the day- sometimes things need to get ugly before you better yourself!
(there it is.)
When the caterpillar digests itself,
Some eXtRa sPeCiAl clumps of cells survive,
Which then order all the rest of the less-extra-special, formerly-a-caterpillar soup around.
Eventually,
Spindly little legs
Curly antennae
A creepy-long tongue
And gorgeous wings are formed.
The butterfly,
Formerly our scrunchy little caterpillar,
Still has to hang on the outside of the chrysalis
In a crinkled soggy little mass
For a few hours
Before working up the strength to fly away.
So the metamorphosis of caterpillars to butterflies,
In my opinion,
Is pretty cool.
They go from a small, insignificant worm,
To cell soup,
To a striking butterfly to be marveled at by all.
*insert metaphorically deep & profound closing statement no one will remember in three minutes here*
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