From the Perspective of a Wolf

 

Shadows surround

I make not a sound,

Through the trees, I see, not one child, but three

My belly thunders as I watch them toddle in wonder

My eyes glint

Perchance giving them hint

Of what comes through the night, will surely be a fright

There I will creep as the children lie asleep

Through the door of wood,

Past their father, stalwart stood

Three, oh what glee that there are three

Small and fat, but large enough their heads fill a hat

Maybe these, who are wrapped in shadow

Can see through the veil so shallow

I come not in menace through the terrace,

I crawl and snarl because I cannot do else

Such a dark history prevents me from a safe sense of self

These three children sleep,

Like little tiny sheep

One, two, three they snore

As I slink in through the door

One, two, three they wake

And make everyone’s same, same mistake.

All at once, with a cry like thunder, the father—there! As if it a blunder

BANG! comes a deafening cry that sparks my fear and hurts my eye

I fell and stumbled as the man's feet rumbled

I turn and run, and run and run,

One sparks a yell, and then a ton

Before I know what before me lies, I’ve run off the ground, I’m in the skies!

In truth, I confess, I may have lied.

The gruond before me and then the skies,

the villiage at my back and on the attack,

waging war just before,

I must confess, it's been a disguise, I've lied.

I never made it this far.

I died.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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