There once was a caterpillar;
He lived in a cocoon
He used to wonder if he would ever see the sun
Or the moon,
Or the stars shining brilliantly in the sky.
What he would look like
When he would become a butterfly.
He'd only heard about all these
In poems or in stories
He waited, and waited,
And waited to be free--
To be free, and to fly
From the cocoon in the tree.
He ate and he slept
And he laughed and he wept
And he wondered, how he wondered!
Would he ever get out of the cocoon in the tree?
He remembered his mother telling him,
"You'll only be a butterfly
If you really, really want to try."
And so he tried.
He tried, he tried, and he
Tried to be a butterfly,
But he couldn't.
He couldn't be a butterfly--
He thought of living
Forever in the cocoon in the tree
He thought of giving
Up his fanatical fantasy.
But he didn't--
And he tried, he tried, he tried,
He cried, he cried, he tried
And finally he made a hole in the silk of his cocoon
(It wasn't a hole, but he called it one.)
And he cried tears of joy as he saw the starlight,
And he cried tears of joy as he saw the moon
And he broke out and flew away from his little cocoon.
- Vruta Gupte.
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