Perhaps a cockroach with its history
would have appealed to you;
its amber and satin body,
sleak and smooth,
draped delicate lace and transparant wings,

Could have been the most beautiful thing you ever saw,
if you had forgotten what ugliness was supposed to be,
and what your world had made it to be.

Perhaps their long life and resiliance,
their ability to slide through every creak and crevice
their dark and slender form, dashing through the night,
evading every trap and light;
placing festive feast upon the slightest crumb,
and immunity to every illness we succumb.

All this as opposed to ten days of life,
and the short lived ability to flit and fly-
Be the colorful spectrum to a child's eye,
net in hand, ready to snatch,
the amusement, but never the gasping seriousness--
still you would choose to be a butterfly.