Writing a poem about how everything is awesome

 

but my possum it ain't the truth.

 

Sometimes I think I should get my dreams and tossum

 

but I'll blossom, stay devoted and follow through.

 

Created these goals after having been through the ringer

 

I lingered in complacence and met my maker.

 

Drank too much, sexed too much. 

 

Worked too little, Cared even less.

 

Delved into self-destruction, that honestly felt good.

 

Abuse, misuse, and lack of love evolved into autonomy.

 

No longer is their transparency.

 

No longer am I desperate for you to see.

 

I be,

 

who I be

 

and to me, this butterfly is lovely.

 

And although nothing seems better than a caterpillar wrapped in chaos and discrepancy,

 

this butterfly is lovely.