The Wolf

Sometimes I stare at myself in the mirror

I’m short, thick, and a little funny looking at times.

But, then when others see me

I’m the wolf.

I am the predator.

 Those who don’t know me fear me.

They think that I am frightening, loud, and mean

That all I produce is pain and suffering and should be exterminated

But sometimes I lie awake at night and think.. why should I be terminated before my start?

How can I be evil and bare no good just because I come from a hood the ghetto.

I come from a pack but of whom? The others I once knew now lack

Fazed by darkness you cannot see my beautiful brown skin

Through this thick suffocating fur of negativity my innocence seems nonexistent

How can I be born so different?

Once upon a time.. Oh so long ago

My smile was beautiful.

My hair waved out like flowing fans.

I was loved and beautiful

A timeless queen

My love gentle and ever so more seen

I was human

A god fearing woman perceived

I am human

Trapped in a nightmare no man would believe.

My fairytale has died and I wonder how it could become so cold.

Why must I die if my story will never be told?

Can I take off this costume I’ve been forced to wear for so long?

This filter be unfiltered so I can go somewhere I do belong.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741