The lazy butterfly grew quite weary.
There were too many perils in life.
Flying a straight line wasn’t possible;
fanning his wings, to attract a wife.
Predators lurked around every corner. Death and danger shadowed each move. The softest breeze blew him off course.
All were survival skills he had to prove.
The suns rays were fleeting and distant. Water and food were difficult to find. He longed for his much simpler past. His pupa days had been a lot more kind.
To regress back to caterpillar form, he climbed inside his old cocoon. By squeezing his awkward wings back in; at last he could relax and sleep ’til noon.