Metamorphosis of the soul

Always in your darkness, hidden by your shadow,

Grappling, scratching, clawing, climbing, 

like a dandelion growing through the concrete;

 

To be myself, not relentlessly compared to you.

To emerge and metamorphose from the caterpillar trapped by your iniquity,

into the wild and beautiful butterfly I know myself to be.

 

And be better, soar higher, beat the insurmountable expectations 

of how you are superior.

More educated, wiser, articulate, your words defter.

So, you like to crush my spirit, 

keep me flattened, suppressed, fragmented;

To never be as intelligent as you, as good as you.

 

But I am pure and innocent, 

from the dirt I will emerge, soaring, 

my wings ablaze with light.