Born without race or culture
the perennial outsider
never knowing the secret code
that unlocks human exhange.
Laughing wrongly,
crying wrongly,
never fawning rightly,
never a proper genuflection.
Perpetual horror
of incorrectness,
never feigning civilization rearing
for long.
Revealed and reviled in youth,
bent and strange to common eyes,
but known and loved
by only one and One.
Raised by wolves,
loved as wolves can give love,
except for the Maker of wolves.
One love for wolf and man
redeems even the wolf.
Outcasts love outcasts,
and know their own.
Some try to be like wolves,
and envy those born to it.
How have we served you?