Greatly Misunderstood
A pig I’ve been, a pig I am, a pig I’ll forever stay.
Indeed I’ve been a lonely pig before my Hollywood days.
Before the flashy sparkling lights, before the autographs
Prior to the face massages, makeovers and cucumber baths
Before I met my dearest frog, before the twinkle in my eye
Before I met him, said,”Bonjour”, or left and said “Goodbye
Prior to the screaming fans, or duets on TV
Before I knew a single thing, before I even knew me.
Once upon a tiny farm, where my joyful family resided,
I used to be an energetic pig, and I wasn’t fearful to hide it.
My father, who would treat me well, always tucked me in at night,
He tucked me in a stack of hay, singing towards the sky
Mother wasn’t always stern; she used to be a saint!
On summer days when I thought not, she’d take me out to paint!
We’d paint whatever we could find! A tree, a horse, the sun!
And there was father smiling hard, he was a cheerful one.
Then one day when rain fell from the angry, smoky clouds
I was ordered into the barnyard, they closed the red roof down.
The doors were shut, it was a daze! No one knew what was occurring!
The entire hint that I was given was the scent of – something burning!
The lightning boomed; the thunder clapped, as I lay against my golden hay stack
My ears were perked, I listened well! And then I realized Father wasn’t back!
I searched for Mother full of tears, I had no clue, I just had fear.
There she was with grayish cheeks, cramped between two frightened sheep!
After hours of madness and chaos, the doors swung open with craze
I slowly emerged from my favorite spot; the field was full of play
‘But how on earth, ‘I thought to myself. ‘Just a second ago was mad! Should I be feeling merry, or worried, or even sad?’
Farmer Jenkins swept past us all, carrying some scrap of meat.
Blood dripped from his crisply hands onto his jeans and feet.
‘He must’ve killed another cow’ I said in my aching mind.
Once again a life had been unnecessarily sacrificed.
If Father were here he’d curse against that straw-haired, heartless beast!
He’d explain to me about their kind; how they use us for their feasts.
Suddenly I was reminded, where could Father be at this time?
Usually he’d be at the fence slurping slop, or with Mother spending time.
I galloped behind the barnyard, where the mocha mud lay deep.
Well, honestly it wasn’t mud; the sun dried it with its heat.
“Father” I called in a high pitched voice. My sound was always funny.
I waited for at least a minute, there was no: “Right here honey!”
My heart sank deep into my chest, my blonde curls floated with the wind.
Where could he be, if he’s not here? Perhaps mother knows where he went!
With enormous curiosity, I searched around the corner.
There was mother knitting a scarf; tear drops covered her all over.
Never did mother display this emotion, not even in front of my dad!
Then it hit me ever so hard; could this be why she’s- sad?
“What’s happened, Mother?” I asked gently. I wanted not to kill more of her spirit.
“Get away from me, now!” she bellowed hard, she did not want to hear it.
I swear that without any protection, my heart would’ve fallen to the ground.
From this moment on, I was alone, just me and no one now.
When evolved into my teens, I began to finally understand.
Father had been harvested, kilt! I’d lost my favorite man.
From that point in my childhood, I toughened up; I put courage on my face!
If I was to never have a father again, I would need someone to take that place!
Why not it be me, (though I am female), aren’t I strong enough?
Who says I can’t be laid back and feminine, and be strong, clever, and tough!
I’ll learn to fight; I’ll learn to respond to anyone’s insulting words!
One day, I’ll become so powerful! The biggest name America’s ever heard!
One day, I’ll fall madly in love with Moi’s mon “capitan”!
Together we’ll sing in harmony, he’ll be the accessory to my “man!”
And then of course I will turn rich, and buy designer clothing.
Never again will I lose hope, never will I stop believing!
And so I did; I toughened up my spirit and my heart.
To the point where even the slightest word you say, may tick me off.
Nowadays I tend to be so cruel, a pig with colder feelings.
Sometimes I have zero patience, and I’m not up to receiving.
If only the world could truly know the pain I once went through.
Perhaps it would be easier, perhaps I’d be true too.
But of course, it’s hard to explain the details of your fate.
For some reason, it sticks with vous, until your final days.
So if you ever wonder, ‘Why must Moi be harsh and feisty?’
Take a tiny, careless moment. Remember, Moi’s harsh story.