lost little loup-garou
of small town Hoosier skies,
the ability to show your pelt
bred out of your bloodlines -
honey-brown doll hair
and hazel eyes,
the only things holding back
black fur and
fangs and silent paws.
but your growl is as strong
as your ancestors',
jaws just as lethal
oh yes... that puny girl
across the room would
be no match for you,
and you smirk in
secret glee, rolling
your shoulders luxuriously.
capable of so much more
than your tender smiles,
little wolf daughter -
be still and know
a hunter runs through
your veins.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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There is creativity here but I found the poem to be abstract and slightly cliche-ridden. I don't mind cliches so much -- poetry is a cliche itself -- but feel the writer needs to be aware of the effect it will have on a disgruntled audience.
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Sorry to have disgruntled you, Gin.
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That came out stronger than I intended. I'm bad with words.
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