Let the grind begin,
There seems to be no way to win.
From school, to sports, to homework,
Their parents are hiding the knives and forks.

The lone wolf no one messes with,
The one wolf given a gift.
Walking around the campus grounds,
Making little to no sounds.

Did you hear?
He has no fear.
Cold and heartless some might say,
He has been pushed further away.

No one really knows,
What he does or where he goes.
A creature of habit,
People always trying to make a stab-at-it.

He goes to practice to release this tension,
Occurrences he should not mention.
Anger flows through his blood,
A monster he becomes as an uncontrollable flood.

Finally walking to his house,
Feeling trapped like a mouse.
He opens the door,
To an empty house.
Feeling alone forever more.
He is I and I am him.
By Nathaniel Cornell