Comrade wolf.

Comrade wolf.

 

They say in Russia, 

 

Comrade wolf knows who to eat.

 

The wilderness of Siberia,

 

Running free.

 

Its no different here.

 

These shitty little islands.

 

Surrounded by the sea.

 

Full of stupidity and fear.

 

Meeting person, after person.

 

They lie for a living.

 

Lie for their supper.

 

Their companionship,

 

Conversation,

 

Empty, false, repetitive,

 

Worthless.

 

They look for sheep, in sheep.

 

I often thought it curious.

 

When a man is burnt, and screams.

 
He smells of pig.
 
 
Yet, I feel he should smell of lamb.
 
They sound, walk and talk, like sheep.
 
 
They can’t tell the difference,
 
Between a dog, a judas goat,
 
Or farmer.
 
 
To clean to do anything of merit,
 
To dirty to be fit for the house.
 
 
Beneath a sheep’s pelt?
 
Why, when a wolfs pelt is so soft?
 
A wolf can rejoice,
 
And eat a flock of sheep,
 
As they bay and Baal.
 
So they huddle,
 
And wait.
 
..So does the wolf.
 
 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I was brought a very special gift, for my birthday.

 

A translated Russian book, by Putin.

Words that change the world.

I felt inspired.

 

You know its true, sheep.

 

.. and to the wolves, run free.

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allets's picture

Nice Gift

Thanks for the poem - very Russian :D slc


 

 

Thelostpoet's picture

It was an awesome gift!   I

It was an awesome gift!

 

I wrote in the style of a wolf from Russia. :)