POEM? YES (Untitled)

What am i but a hardened and crusted over hermit that shed his shell when cruel and tough jabs broke through until molten chitin slithered off slowly You stare in awe when things to do make you surprised at an outcome other than my expected survival rate But laboriously my thoughts bursted through until hardened once more and the shell reformed with more girth and fortification I hope you perceive differently and that my new form looks smeary and hallucinatory like a shroom cloud tripping on acid Because it is not just to judge then cringe at the new sight of change When change is more than just a subtle reply to light and unfulfilled expectations