He woke to a bizarre sickness,

Nathaniel no longer wished to move.

Working as a labourer with poor pay proved taxing.

A strange sickness, bleak and heavy.

Nathaniel subsidised his apathetic parents, And was expected to fund his spoiled sister’s lavish life.

His hard labour was for nothing, Nothing for him,

He was lost and alone.

His hands moved rapidly and with precision.

Once spent the heaviness failed to subside,

Nathaniel’s sadness thickened as is often the case, He lay in a heap ignoring the cries of his disgruntled family.

Slimy secretions crept about him,

His head was heavy, and his body worn,

From years and years of thankless toil and hardship.

Fluid crept over his worn form.

The doctor came at his parent’s behest, And advised them to leave him to his sickness.

Soon he was desolate, forgotten.

Occasionally he would scuttle from room to fridge, Desperate to find raw meat or some sweet and sickly treat.

The secretions engulfed him fully,

No one noticed the cocooned useless shell, As he no longer served any real purpose, no longer provided.

Erased from existence, and family photos, The room was left closed, and visitors dared not mention him. Time moved on.

As summer approached the shell cracked,

Strange noises hummed throughout the house, And his thoughtless family came to witness the commotion.

Cracked shell laid bare,

The creature was no more!

Instead stood a glorious butterfly, wings a stunning purple.

With no regard for the leeches, He flew from his window to freedom.