I may at times seem as delicate as a butterfly.
I may at times seem no more than a mere child.
I may at times seem innocent and weak.
And even immature.
But I strongly suggest that you not underestimate me,
For you never know what is lurking within my heart.
They say you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.
They say you have to look within.
They say appearances are deceiving.
For you never know what is hidden deep within.
So do me well on this one deed
And not judge me for what is seen.
I am capable of hatred.
I am capable of revenge.
I am capable of jealousy.
And even of the bitterness,
That makes us all cry.
I can be strong and courageous.
I can be fierce and relentless.
I can be unforgiving and cruel.
For deep within this butterfly,
Lies a wolf upon its prey.
