Tristan Robert Lange
The Wolf at the Door
“Please! O pretty please, let me come inside,”
Said the tall, lone gray-haired wolf as a plea.
“Not by the hair on our chinny-chin’s hide!”
To the wolf, the pigs’ voices were a chide
That stung as harsh as a man o’ war sea.
“Please! Pretty please, O let me come inside,”
The wolf’s voice came out louder, more in stride.
But the pigs would not budge at this poor plea.
“Not by the hair on our chinny-chin’s hide!”
The wolf, in fear, howled out with tears undried,
But it sounded much like a growl set free.
“O Please! I will freeze, let me come inside!”
The growl of desperation could not hide—
The pigs held their own biases with glee,
“Not by the hair on our chinny-chin’s hide!”
The wolf, at a loss, forced to face their chide,
Threatened to blow their houses to the sea,
“Please! I will freeze and die, let me inside!”
“Not by the hair on our chinny-chin’s hide!”
And so, the defeated wolf left and cried,
Because the pigs would not hear his poor plea .
Their own biases and hatred inside,
Caused them to miss the friend God had supplied.
© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.