Migration
Is a butterfly’s life.
There are changes, but we will get through it.
That is what mother says,
trying
to be positive.
But it is not true.
Migration is a colorless page
a veil of darkness.
You don’t fly. You fall.
Migration is like a caterpillar in its cocoon,
trying to come out. Trapped. Changing.
I wish I
were a butterfly.
Grade: 6
Spring Valley
New York
The War That Saved My Life
To be president
My parents