Wolves

You poor creatures…
Suspicious,
vicious.

You poor darling creatures:
you take the blame
for each maimed sheep.

I feel for you.
I feel we have wronged you,
in every song and every story.

Every gory detail,
we point at the path of sticky entrails and
we blame you.

 

 

…and just today I said
people are wolves.
If they sense
you hate something about
yourself
…they will tear you apart using
that very thing.
It’s true.
And just like that,
I blamed you.

You poor creatures.
Vicious,
suspicious,
and free.
Downright majestic,
And we are the domestic version,
aren’t we?

 

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