My brother and I explored a ravine in our younger years. A wooded labyrinth where the auburn mist of fallen leaves covered the floor like a Burmese tiger pit.
My brother and I discovered a lake, which became a creek, which became a swamp. I must've found something exciting, because I began sprinting homeward in a juvenile fervor. Penetrating the leafy shroud with my eager feet. Unaware of traps set subtly for those tramping through the wilderness.
A nail, I stepped on a nail in my recklessness. My tennis shoe armor proved futile against the steel weaponry. Completely exposing my vulnerable sole, the spiked interloper sank its lone fang into me. The pain shot through my foot until ambulatory abilities all but vanished.
I didn't watch where I was stepping and landed on an inadvertent weapon. I should've known the pollution of man would stab me in my outstretched hand.
A lesson was learned about paranoia and why it exists. Even if I watch where I'm going, polluters will slit my wrists until the findings of the swamp are forgotten in favor of scars.
what you see is not always what you get, like a tiger scared by a house cat. we sometimes forget that appearances can be deceiving just like we’re trained to master the act of concealing the emotions that don’t serve our audience in a zoo they all want to see a tiger at its finest performance no one knows the struggles of the tiger since no eye sees behind the curtain where life seems to be a little harsher.