I was six years old when
they threw me to the wolves..
Just a little package of flesh
dumped on some strangers doorstep
From that day forward all my
tommorow's would belong to the
wolves
And who were the wolves
Everyone..and anyone
The world was a big monster
of disapproval and normal
appearing faces would bear fangs
while peering at me behind fake
smiles and through their shadows
on the wall
With just the clothes on my back
I turned to wave good-bye to mommy
but she had already sped away
There never was a good-bye nor would
there ever be another hello
I turned and faced the new executioners
of my childhood dreams
Day by day they would spoon feed me
their own brand of mental illness
Day by day I faded into the fabric
of nothingness
And so I died- died to cowboys and
Indians-
To boyscouts and campfires- to
Christmas trees and birthdays
I died for all the little boys
of the world
But I was reborn..
I rose to life as a predator..
To hunt the wolves~