It is no shame in admitting, after bidding adieu to a whole year and one grade, my creations have surely matured. From the larva of an amateurish understanding of what poetry is, beyond mere rhyming words, I consider this collection to be a memoir of my metamorphosis into a pupa. Still not the march to the highest level, it is all about the journey, the metamorphosis. I was previously awestruck by emotions from a distance, and now, I seek to comment on the nature of these emotions, adopt them, and then - weave them into poetry. Some preachy, some genuine. some chaotic, some in order - All imperfect. This is an ode to imperfect metamorphosis.
