"A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing"

dressed, pressed, and pushed to impress.

hair curled to soften and suppress,

eyes painted to accentuate my exterior,

lips coiled into a smile to prove I’m not inferior.

the rest of the flock can spot the difference,

it’s no coincidence.

the spotlight hits me,

all eyes glow green.

to my surprise, I despise being seen.

the bright light cascades on all of me that is obscene.

the sheep stick together,

like birds of a feather.

in pairs and in herds,

swapping razor sharp words.

conformity equals strength,

so I am kept at arms-length.

if one wears ruffles and hoops,

the rest follow suit.

the giggles echo into the microphone,

all I want to do is go home.

the contest is to spot the beauty that shines from the crowd,

not a beauty that stands out from the crowd.

the sheep create a barrier,

because to them there’s nothing scarier.

they fear the lone wolf will take what it doesn’t deserve.

how dare the wolf have such nerve.

I never looked the part.

the ruffles and hoops don’t match my heart.

my smile too wide, too sharp, too demanding.

if they allowed the admission, would it be longstanding?

the question always lingers

would it be another joke pointed at with their fingers?

It would never be authentic.

the perfect image no longer photogenic.

it could never expose the disguise.

unable to allow uniformity’s demise.

the whispers and lies,

the herd moves with weary eyes,

the hostility framed with a smile,

always poised in their profile.

I am not a sheep.

I am a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

clawing desperately for the approval I don’t even desire,

changing who I am and wearing the attire. to feel as though I belong,

when I am wrong.

the ruffles and hoops are not for me.

I am not a sheep.

I never looked the part,

nor did I want to join the crowd.

the question now lingers if it is because of my heart,

or if it’s simply because I wasn’t allowed.