Howls

A piece about being the underdog

Howls:

Somedays, your howl will sound more like a whimper.

It will escape your jaw like a cracked cry, unable to sustain sound.

Boy, I beg you,

Don’t cry wolf.

Cry freedom.

Cry pain.

Cry your name.

Cry something,

Anything but not in vain!

But boy, don’t cry wolf.

The world will tell you that silence is golden,

But I say it’s blackened.

Blinded by its own selfish ego.

Little wolf, look up at the moon.

Tell me it is not beautiful.

Tell me you do not want to howl.

Mother Earth is losing her sight, she listens to you instead.

She swears that when you howl,

She can see past tomorrow.

Little wolf, can’t you see?

Let the voice rip from your lungs,

Let the air scream from your lips,

Let the words tear through the night.

Stand upon the mountain.

Leave your pack behind.

You are the alpha now, boy,

It is your time.

Father Time is ticking close to midnight,

Closer and closer he ticks.

Tick tock America, Tick tock,

He is losing his hearing,

But he swears when you howl,

He can feel the vibrations of your words,

Your emotions,

You.

Little wolf, can’t you see?

All your life you’ve been crying wolf.

Following your pack,

Being the underdog.

But tonight, tonight is your night.

Stand upon that mountain.

With the breeze rippling through your hair.

The stars have spelled out your name,

And they dance eagerly in anticipation.

So howl, boy.

Howl.

Author's Note

Please keep in mind that all my pieces are slam piece which are meant to be heard and not read. Since I am unable to perform these through the Internet, please enjoy as it is and let me know what you think of it. Thanks! --JM