A Beast, A Man
A poem on those who feel righteous but judge
The gaze of a beast
A lion's watchful eye
What you call
A monster
What makes this
A devil
Snarls and teeth bared
To the white withering world
A hungry belly
Stalking to satisfy
Is it a predator's thirst
That you call evil
Without recognizing
Your own heart is beating
Insatiable, greedy
True, your fangs don't protrude
Your throat doesn't growl
A low humble thing
No
For your craving
Is not one of need
No
You desire
And you take and you take
Then look to the wild
Call these creatures beastly things
Cruel, heartless
But you
So much further from innocence
Who are you
To call survival
A monster
About the Creator
Kaylee Skinner
A mere cat loving poet, writing my way through life. If you enjoy a story of mine give it some love or send me a tip so I can keep sharing! (:
Keep reading
More stories from Kaylee Skinner and writers in Poets and other communities.
Thoughts on Vocal and the way the world is
"Death cannot stop true love, only delay it." – Wesley in The Princess Bride. I decided to come back to Vocal on a very cold and dark night at the end of December. I had been, and still am, convalescing from a horrible staph infection that had gone misdiagnosed for months. This, paired with the increasing challenges of being healthy, making the best choices for my co-parented child, being a wife, and being a director at a new job, was a lot to manage.
By Jazzy 6 days ago in Confessions
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.