Metamorphosis
What is a man,
Who can tell,
A master plan,
An empty shell,
A force of good,
A source of bad,
A thought he should,
A wish he had,
A volunteer,
To help us out,
Should we appear,
To be in doubt,
Or set us free,
To leave the nest,
If liberty,
Will serve us best,
And should he fold,
For lack of pay,
And then behold,
A brighter day.
He stops to think,
And then reflect,
Upon the brink,
Of circumspect,
What is a man,
But flesh and bone,
An also-ran,
Who died alone,
Or Superman,
Who won the peace,
To make the man,
A masterpiece.
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