My Story: Butterfly (a poem)

I came across this poem back in 2001 during Literature lesson. I still remember that particular day in that classroom (in Lowland Road), where I was sitting at the back of the classroom in a group where we were to discuss on that poem and what we think about it.

I still remember that day very clearly, because I didn’t really enjoy the company of the group I was in coz the other girls were already part of a clique, and at that particular Lit. lesson, they were fighting. No one was really talking to each other then. I didn’t really like literature at that time, because of the teacher (who was fierce) and it required group work. I guess back then, the biggest transition for me from primary school to secondary school was not the location, not the friends, but the need to form groups and do discussion.

There was this particular poem in the textbook that we were using and we were supposed to as a group, discuss about it and share it with the class (another thing which the 13-year-old me disliked). Because they were having some problems, no one really discussed about it, but I particularly found the poem interesting so I thought hard about what to say, in case the group I was in got picked.

Here’s the poem, by Simon Forest:

Butterfly
Butterflies
Butterflown

My thought (then) was that this poem is trying to convey something, that it was like a riddle. So when asked, I shared with the teacher about it and when she asked me what the poem was trying to convey, I stood there not knowing what to say and about less than a minute later, she told me to sit down.

That day taught me a few lessons:
1. Speaking up in class isn’t as scary as I thought it was.
2. What literature is about.
3. Literature is quite fun.
4. The teacher isn’t that fierce afterall.
5. I don’t belong to that group.

The next literature class, I went to another group.

Notes: To any of my 1E1 classmates who are reading this and if you are one of the girls, I didn’t write this to get back at you or anything, but just to pen down one of my memory in words. So no offense!

Come to think of it, now that I look at the poem, I think it’s about birth, life and death? I don’t know. Literature is cool in the way that everyone looks at the poem differently.