Posts Tagged ‘beast’

If only I had the wisdom

of a wild beast.

I would stay away from open, offered palms,

and not listen to words sweetened by inflection.

I could smell the metallic bitterness, the buried dishonesty;

taste fear in the saltiness of sweat on the air–

as pungent as rotting meat.

Trust would have to be earned

by genuine kindness–

the warmth of a blanket, or the offering of food.

Care would have to be received

in order for affection to surface.

I would not be blinded

by human facades and false kindness.

I wouldn’t be wounded easily.

If only I had the wisdom of a wild beast,

who thrives through caution,

and is not tricked by open palms, or sweetly coated words.

Slender and silent

he approached the frame.

They knew what not to call him,

but he did appear tame.

But soon he was forgotten,

left without a name,

in the shadows of the seamstresses

he decided to end the game.

Claws and fangs and fur like a crow’s plume

crept behind the spinning two, and unleashed their doom.

I’m afraid, I don’t understand.”

“Fool! Those two with molten hair– too late–

did not deduce the faults in what they spun.

And when they turned their backs,

he was no beast, but a man. And that man had won.”