elle volera par des arcs en ciel

She crawled
along a branch, looking
for a protective shell, a pupae,
something or somebody to keep her
body warm during adolescent twilight, a time
where we need love, hope, and a kiss of true love,
from family, from friends, from a lover here and there.

Like so many of us,
she didn't get what she needed.

Even without a diet of sugar and smiles, one can grow;
a diet of bitter water and stale melancholy,
watering her shell with tears and lies,
(for that is all that fell, by grace
of God or unknown fate,
who knows?)

All I know is that she's a butterfly
with wings of rainbow steel, able to
fly upon her own two wings.