One Girl's Words

More Than Just One

A/N: So I found this poem that I wrote several months ago, bepaw this book was published. I read it and was wondering what in Hagsmire was going through my mind when I wrote this. I remember writing this after watching a poetry exercise on YouTube (you should check some out, they're all really good), and thought I'd post it here. Enjoy!

I'm a penguin, in their eyes.
Cute but awkward, out of their depth,
Struggling with all the little things,
Like walking, and talking.
Being laughed at for every little move they make.
But in the right conditions,
They're graceful, streamlined, beautiful,
Will prove them all wrong.

Everyone loves the beach,
The sand, the waves, the cliffs.
Can't think of a better place.
Especially for a penguin like me.
But it's just for summer fun.
What about the winter?
Then everyone forgets.
Except me.
How could I forget my home?

I'm a wolf, in their eyes.
Shy, elusive, hiding on the fringes,
Cowering in fear when they glance their way.
Growling when a friendly hand is extended.
Capable of killing with a snap of their jaws.
But in the right conditions,
They're poised, powerful, majestic,
Will prove them all wrong.

Wolves are known to live in packs,
They depend on each other.
But haven't you heard the expression lone wolf?
That's what my friend and I are.
A couple of lone wolves,
Pushed together by destiny.
We understand each other,
Put a smile on our faces, a wag in our tails,
Which is what we need
When the world is against us.

I'm an owl, in their eyes.
Silent, distant, observing from a place,
Out of reach, can't be touched.
But up out of reach they're
Toothless, can't bite back.
But in the right conditions,
They're strong, swooping fighters,
Will prove them all wrong.

Owls like me are no stranger
To working hard.
How else would we get off the ground?
Shaping the wind with our power flaps,
Riding the thermals and drafts,
Whilst the others can't even get off the ground,
Crash and burn below the fog,
We ride silently above the clouds.

So which am I, sea, land or air?
I could be anything, especially since
I know how to cut
In more ways than one.
Beak, claws, talons.
So where do I fit?
In a society filled with
Stereotypes and expectations,
Where do I fit?

Is it true that I could be
More than one thing?
After all, I'm only human,
Yet I feel it in me,
All three.
So I beg you to answer,
Which one am I?
And how do I choose,
Between, the waves of the sea,
The woods of the lands,
And the wisps of the air?

Which one am I,
When I feel it in me,
Every single one?