Born fill’d with pangs of hunger [MODERN ENGLISH VERSION]

Born fill’d with pangs of hunger

i wast born hungry—

f’r love,

fame,

and acknowledgement.

i bite the handeth yond feeds me,

lick the hands yond hitteth me,

and chuckle

at those who is’t fear

mine own bar’d teeth.

i growl,

i bite,

i bark—

i am not cuddle-light.

i rip and drop of sorrow the flesh of mine own own kin,

as if ’t be true to sayeth:

better none

than one equal to me.

i lick mine own wounds,

but as flies did lie eggs

to feast on mine own flesh,

i growl

at the handeth yond cares.

“do not touch me,” i say—

with a growl

yond only reveals

mine own true fear:

the fear

to beest vulnerable,

and kind

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Born Hungry

I was born hungry—

for love,

fame,

and acknowledgement.

I bite the hand that feeds me,

lick the hands that hit me,

and laugh

at those who fear

my bared teeth.

I growl,

I bite,

I bark—

I am not cuddle-light.

I rip and tear the flesh of my own kin,

as if to say:

better none

than one equal to me.

I lick my wounds,

but as flies lay eggs

to feast on my flesh,

I growl

at the hand that cares.

“Do not touch me,” I say—

with a growl

that only reveals

my true fear:

the fear

to be vulnerable,

and kind.

#poemreview