Photograph by David Tsitrin
by Joshua Pak
They call me every synonym of malicious.
In truth, I only want to make friends.
Yet my success has been anything but auspicious,
Indeed I have been slain in every way:
Medusa’s head, a pegacorn’s grace, some pirate’s lead.
I’ve always extended a hug in camaraderie,
However receive blows and hurt instead.
When I squeeze back in small retribution,
They say they are the ones that bled.
Look at everyone else around me.
It’s not like I’m similar to the Wyrm,
Who doesn’t take his allergy meds.
Or the beautiful Gumiho,
That rips gentle hearts to shreds.
I’m actually nice to those at sea.
Pushing them to their destinations,
And even giving them much needed lee.
I guess I’ll always be misunderstood.
People fear me too much to stop and listen,
Even if I try to do good.