Family of Werewolves

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
something about two faced people

Submitted: February 07, 2009

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Submitted: February 07, 2009

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Family of Werewolves:
 
An ingrown hair
That pulls
An heir to the throne
 Who stops the hand atop the breast?
Doesn’t care if he’s Oedipus Rex  
This epidermis must obey its virtues
Dulled and vexed
So when the moon sedates the bull
That castrates it’s own
You’ll always know
You’re just a family of werewolves
 
Irony isn’t contraband
Soothes the tooth
With silver and sand
Boost your ego
Until sunrise
Grinds your man
Finds himself naked in public
I think he’ll understand
 
The heavy weight
Of your only despair
Will takes its final toll
As human bones
Reclaim their space
Making pangs a common fate
It tells me how long you expected to scare
The process of transformation
Has disappeared
Half way through Wolf and Man
Isn’t it harder to look at your face?
Now that’s it’s so sneered
Well, I don’t see a change
You’ve always had the fangs
But never a night’s conscience cleared
 
Blood hang over’s
That set the mood
Take your lies,
 And cry to the moon
You’ve lost your only way
With swipe of tail
And smiting our past to the grave
No shackles could ever contain
That curse so foretold
But never gained
No solemn vows
Could ever tame
The sobering dance
Of the morally ill trained
Canines dulled and gray
Frightingly human
But never wholly sane
Distained half-breeds
Snap at love
Like its food and pull
You’re just a family of werewolves


© Copyright 2018 Trish Carlhand. All rights reserved.

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