A Poem by Wolf’s Cub

There’s a fine line,

Between rosemary and thyme.

A dew by the sea,

One only needs humidity.

But the other has more depth.

For one, it freshens your breath,

For two, it complements your eggs

By noting it’s smooth shape and lack of legs.

For three, it comes in sprigs

With enough of ’em they do a jig.

Lastly, it comes in silver, orange, and lemon.

Well, that’s the end of the lesson.

The Sidekick

This ain’t no place for us,

These streets bleed the kind of vulgarity that leaves my mouth dry.

This ain’t no place for our kind,

Where the women rape without shedding a tear.

I won’t lie to ya, we’re better than them.

That’s the God-awful truth.

We perch ourselves above to get away.

This isn’t a place that changes,

They’re set in their devastatin’ ways.

Being lucky enough to stay alive

While taking someone else’s,

That definitely ain’t our problem.

Thinking about it brings you down to their level.

I know you don’t want it…neither do I.

When I see any of them suffering,

I think about you diving out of the sky and correcting ’em.

Then, they gorge on your good nature.

Do you want that, cousin?

I ain’t jumpin’ down. I’m fine and dandy up here.