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As a child I looked at life with wonder in my eyes
Love was as opaque aswalls to a house
Friendships were as true as our existance on earth...
Yet as I grew, my thoughts began to change
Angels that have come from the skies,
Known now as women, have come to become mistreated
Theyve grown to mistreat each other, and enjoy it
The men have come to take these angels for granted...
Worse off treating them like material things, misusing and abusing them
As children do with toys...
Yet again I grow and come to realize that thought was idiotic
There are angels that still exist and bring others joy
And there are men who come to cherish these angels...
Life is both yin and yang, good with a pinch of evil and visa versa
It depends on how one would come to see it... my thoughts on myself
Havent changed in the slightest though, im still a being whose existance
Is to enforce the angels worth, as well as too express mens worth
And how they should all coexist and be happy... when that comes to fruition
My existance will no longer be needed... but thats when Ill just...
Smile.... and...... vanish...........like im meant to do.

I wander through this life, whimpering out of fear
Limping through the pain, searching for a home.
All is in black and white, all faces are pleasant but brush me off
I'm not worth their time, nor do I have room in their heart.
I look for acceptance, for attention, for love...
But what the hell is any of that... I dont remember anymore
I avoid help, I avoid presumed affection, but why?
I dont want to bother others, I dont want to cause sadness...
Hehe I'm an idiot arent I?... Id rather be left in the shadows
Be ignored all my life, and never feel any positive emotions
As long as you'll be happy, as long as everyones happy... thats just me...

I.
The howls of the wolves
echo through the darkest skies
united as a sullen capella
who sing the song of a lost
loved one
the one they’ll never meet again.
II.
Through my grief, through my sorrow
I venture on my own
a lone wolf, searching for meaning
for (all) I have lost.
III.
A journey begets miracles,
my spirit is risen!
like the souls of the undead
in “El dia de los muertos”
because through my wolf-like gaze
I see her in the distance
a beauty I can’t live without.

IV
Her hair was beautiful,
her eyes were feral,
and her look was majestic
like the appearance of a white wolf
in a countryside, winter wonderland.
V
I gave her my wolfish grin,
she gave me a heartwarming smile.
That’s it! I knew we were meant to be.
VI
Our little wolfpup is born.
Her coat as majestic as her mothers
and her eyes as brown as my own
VII
The wolfpups dance as they play,
a traditional, cultural dance.
One made to remember those whomhavepassed
and to celebrate the new generation to come.

His feelings grow slowly
like the blooming of a flower
to a girl who, unlike others,
acknowledged his existence.
He grew to understand her,
physically and spiritually,
first through her scent
-reminiscent of the evening air
up near the mountains-
ending with her attitude
-childlike in quality…
so spoiled yet sweet…-
but, he can’t hold her
the distance is too great
nomatter howhe approachesher
the distance grows farther,
enough that his dreams thin out.