THE UGLY ROAD 

There is a road, 

That I tread upon.

A road that has a bit too many,

Of these twists and turns. 

And while I walk down this road,

I change.

I morph, into something ugly.

From a beautiful butterfly, 

To it's uglier sister,

A moth.

For this road, 

Of many twists and turns,

Is filled with rocks to trip over, 

And fires which burn. 

Uglier I get, 

As I proceed. 

And I try to turn back,

But the breadcrumbs I left,

Are long gone. 

And so, I trudge forward,

Towards the unknown.