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Osiria Melody Mar 2019
You’re an extension of me, little lion
Voice, soft and ever-flowing like your
frizzy, unkempt mane
You once had trouble roaring like I do,
when you were a cub
Heard a fragile roar, one that
broke my heart into happy tears

You’re an extension of me, little lion
Character, resilient and galvanizing like
your aspirations, never-ending
You once had trouble staying strong with
your claws of positive voices,
when you were a cub
Heard a decree of triumph, one
that lifted my spirits beyond happy tears

You’re an extension of me, little lion
Voice, impactful and ever-confident
like your beautiful, voluminous mane



Melody
3/4/19
We are the physical embodiments of our parents.
Poetic T Aug 2018
Clouds howling in winds of
momentary grace. She looks above
seeing that the clouds greet within
thin veils of silver linings wherein.

Woven her gentile strokes birthed
a new cub the vapours nursed
within her grasp. Eagerly clouds
darken, tears fall from howling shrouds.


A bellowing wind, more a fresh breeze
between fingers rises. A solitary ease
as it lifts to the waiting pack above her.
All become a hue, howling within a blur.
Ryan Holden Nov 2017
Thick brush brown shoulders
carry her cub up steep slopes
To rest at the top.
taia Apr 2016
a young fox nestled
beneath its mother's red tail
sleeps soundly once more
is a baby fox called a pup or a cub? i couldn't decide so i had to change the title.
I am sorry that I scared you, Sir
It was not my intent
I'm just looking for my family, Sir
I do not know where they went
Have you seen my family, Sir?
Do you know where they are?
I am just a young pup, Sir
On my own I won't get far
What is that you're holding, Sir?
Can it help me find my parents?
I don't want to hurt you, Sir
Have you no forbearance?
What about my brother, Sir?
And the way we used to dance?
I could not fight you, Sir
I never stood a chance
I do not understand, Sir
I am but an errant youth
Why would you do this, Sir?
Please tell me the truth
How was I to know it, Sir?
That I had gone too far?
I can't see the borders, Sir
I don't know where they are
I would never hurt you, Sir
Why are you still lying?
My young life is now fading, Sir
And now I lay here dying
But I can't help but wonder, Sir
What did I possibly do wrong?
You came into my home, Sir
Somewhere you did not belong
I can see my mother, Sir
She is in the sky up ahead
I thought about staying, Sir
But I think I'll go instead
I'm sorry that I scared you, Sir
It was not my intent
But now I know the secret, Sir
You do know where they went
This poem represents a hunter killing a young wolf because he was afraid. I wrote it to help fight wolf hunting, if even by only a little.

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