This poem is purely by me. Don't you dare steal it.

Of Wolves and Men

A wolf pack awakens on a cold winter morning,

Beautiful in the light of dawn.

And just like humans so often do,

They commence the day with a stretch and a yawn.

Some pack members go off to hunt,

Leaving others to watch the pups cavort.

Note how they hunt with strategy and skill.

Note also that they kill for food, not for sport.

See how they bring back food for the old and the sick,

And how they treat elders and betters with respect.

While the weak and the young are treated with patience,

Thus giving off a distinctly family-like aspect.

The whole pack is reverent towards the alpha pair.

The male looks at his mate with love in his eyes,

And she turns from the pups to return his tenderness;

Note the strong emotional ties.

The wolf pups are taught with care:

How to run and hunt and keep up with the pack.

The experienced elders teach them

To keep their heads down while defending, and to strike fast when on the attack.

And as night falls on the beautiful wolf pack

They burst into an eerie song.

Humans know not what they sing about,

But to the cold the howls seem to belong.

When wolves are portrayed as omens of evil,

I think of the wolves on that crisp winter day.

The more I think, the more I have to ask,

Are wolves really evil, or are humans worse than they?

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