As a child I wished to become ill not because I wanted to die, well that could be partially why, because I wanted to live, thrive but I could never soar like a butterfly I walked like a caterpillar waiting for the Chrisilist stage. I wanted to become ill to get attention the attention any child should be getting but me, no I gave myself the attention, I saved myself I advanced myself from the Chrisilist stage to the beautiful butterfly. As a child I wished to be sick to get attention and that attention should not be earned but given, graciously because they should have shown me the way to become the butterfly, to soar and rise and so shall I.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem