I am the wolf
hidden in their skin.
I will never be them.
I will never fit in.

And the sheep speak slander.
Their words are venom.
Driving me towards
my life as a phantom.

And it's sick
That we carry such thunder.
When in all that I wanted
I was never a wonder.

And to eyes that see me,
to the eyes that look over
I still go unnoticed
As easily as the four leaf clover.