Behind the Veil
Once a caterpillar small;
A child of not many years.
Confused and scared but hid it all,
Smiling through a thousand tears.
Her hair and eyes were a chocolate brown;
She possessed an air of nobility.
She held the title Queen of the Playground—
No one questioned her authority.
Yet she looked always toward the sky,
Wondering when the time would come
For her to spread her wings and fly,
Not looking back where she came from.
At last does the caterpillar metamorphose,
Emerging strong with will and purpose
With eyes of emerald, brown, and gold;
Hair streaked with brown, blonde, and red.
"You’re a lovely young woman," she had been told;
"She’s wise beyond her years," they said.
Why, then, if butterfly am I,
Do still I search for that not found
Looking hopelessly up toward the sky;
Remaining stuck on the pitiless ground?
They look at me and gaze upon
The image I’ve created;
The role I play, the script I’ve drawn—
The rest remains unstated.
No one could ever understand
How the smiling, happy, privileged girl
Was ready to just throw in her hand,
So jaded with the world.
To worry them I did not want;
Thus, I learned to mask the pain.
My personal demons that torture and taunt
Hidden away from their eyes will remain.
So most believe that’s all there is to see,
That outside, superficial part of me.
My thoughts are locked away; there is no key—
They'll never get to what's inside of me.
Copyright ©1998 by Veronica L. F. Jensen
