Does a butterfly in its glory think back

To the time it spent in black,

Mindlessly waiting

for life?

Does the bright noontime sun

remember one

in the morning?

Can a tadpole that swims in the pond

imagine its life later on

when it croaks and leaps

with vigor?

How do starts wait for day

to go away

so they can shine?

When will this limbo

be terminated?

Show me my life

illuminated.

How much longer

will I tolerate

this burning itch

to create?

I'll abandon this cocoon some day

And live my life my own way;

Say farewell to this

dark prison.

I will soar above it

remembering

How I am trapped.