As the sole cub born,
I had some tiniest spots,
My mother was the world,
And my father was the king,
As she fed me while I crooned for a sibling,
Dad used to just look at her,
But differences spawned and they magnified.
I never had a sibling,
I lack a big teaching.
Now I am the lonely lion.
My HP Poem #773
©Atul Kaushal