Graduation

The writhing worm is scared of those things new,
Ling’ring at a crossroads, baffled by a call;
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

Possibilities shine like honeyed dew,
Lurking mouths await the line to sink and fall;
The writhing worm is scared of those things new.

Empty wings fill with foretaste out and through,
Perched on the chrysalis, she hopes to enthrall;
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

With fears the early bird will her pursue,
Grasp her in its fearsome beak, and make her fall;
The writhing worm is scared of those things new.

Early morning sun, a breathtaking view,
New horizons education’s flame recall;
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

Blind to which joys or terrors may ensue,
Eager to begin, no matter what befall;
The writhing worm is scared of those things new,
Butterfly soars on wings of gold and blue.

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