I was born in a coffin,
Raised to survive.
My mother-the sun
With the gentle touch of her rays,
Who promised me everything was going,
To be all right.

My father- the moon.
Who taught me about life as soon
As he could get up from his drunken sleep.
He bruised from war
And bandaged scars with stars.
That’s what he said a man does.

I have passed my whole life
Just existing.
But never alive .
My only company-the howl
Of other wolves.

I don’t have a berry amount of
Cold feet on this artic floor,
Or a heavy heart on the strongest gravity fields.
But what makes me feel-
Is being a lone wolf.

I could walk around,
All day with my tail up high-
But when my father decides to come out,
I’m just as forsaken as the rock I sleep on.