She is a wolf,
Biting and tearing at all of his mistakes.
Her words are venom but he is immune.
He cradles the issues she makes.
He watched her crumble,
And came and swept her up with kind words.
She broke down, stood up,
And she faced the world with wood swords.
She was childish,
A wooden sword and a bowl on her head.
She yelled and bickered with the wall.
Yelling the witch is dead the witch is dead.
“I am a prince!”
She would yell and holler.
And he would be the dragon, playing with fire.
And she won every argument although she was smaller.
She was a wolf,
He was the wise crack rabbit.
He would play the game and outsmart her.
But he let her win out of habit.
She would be pretty and dainty,
But wild and loud like the lion in the sun.
He presented her flowers,
And they would play and run.