(10) It's A Dangerous World Poem by J.B. LeBuert

The jungle and forest was a wonderful home.
The three Shewolves were not ever afraid to roam,
Although they always stayed together as one team.
They hunted at night, that was the usual scheme.

The humans were around the territory now.
Sometimes they tracked the Shewolves upriver by scow.
As long as they snuggled close in the den by day,
The three were safe from men's eyes and hunters that flay.

They didn't track the humans for sport, fun or food.
Their good sense of survival, told them they'd be screwed.
It was hard to stay away from these forms that stunk.
Once they espied them from behind a large tree trunk.

It didn't take long to fear their sticks that spit fire.
To stay at a distance was their only desire.
One day they might meet but they hoped it was not soon.
Their intuition told them to hunt with no moon.

The humans came often, but not always hunting.
You could hear them now yelling and sometimes grunting.
They came for the adventure and then there was gold.
This would cause the Shewolves to be sad and less bold.

It was their home and range for centuries on end.
They might die for this land, it was theirs to defend.
Encroachment by humans was too much to take now.
A plan must be made, to this the three would avow.

Should they escape from this land of plenty, for now?
Or should they remain and fight as best they knew how?
They were outnumbered and must hide most of the day.
Their cunning could help them if they wanted to stay.

They asked help from the spirit, without any voice.
It would never be easy, whatever the choice.
This could be their last stand as their cunning minds swirled.
There's no doubt about it, It's a Dangerous World.