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The Boy Who Fed the Wolves
<p>The Boy Who Fed the Wolves</p><p><br/></p><p>They said the wolves spared him.</p><p><br/></p><p>No.</p><p><br/></p><p>They simply learned he was the one feeding them.</p><p><br/></p><p>They named him hope</p><p>long before they learned</p><p>who he was.</p><p><br/></p><p>The village stitched</p><p>its broken prayers</p><p>into the fabric of his skin.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every praise</p><p>became another stone</p><p>laid across his shoulders.</p><p><br/></p><p>His mother fed tomorrow</p><p>with the flesh of her today.</p><p><br/></p><p>She called every sacrifice</p><p>an investment</p><p>in his future.</p><p><br/></p><p>He would spend</p><p>the rest of his life</p><p><br/></p><p>feeding yesterday</p><p><br/></p><p>to tomorrow.</p><p><br/></p><p>His father never feared monsters.</p><p><br/></p><p>He feared the man</p><p>his son would have to become</p><p>to survive them.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every disappointment</p><p>added another winter</p><p>to Ade's soul.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every failure</p><p>aged him</p><p>without asking permission.</p><p><br/></p><p>The playground</p><p>became a battlefield.</p><p><br/></p><p>Laughter</p><p>became contraband.</p><p><br/></p><p>He learned</p><p>to steal moments of joy</p><p>between expectations.</p><p><br/></p><p>Whenever he was caught,</p><p><br/></p><p>dreams were confiscated</p><p><br/></p><p>and exchanged</p><p><br/></p><p>for duties.</p><p><br/></p><p>He was never a boy.</p><p><br/></p><p>He had been a man</p><p>since he was a kid.</p><p><br/></p><p>His hands learned</p><p>the language of burden</p><p>before they understood</p><p>the meaning of play.</p><p><br/></p><p>Life never asked</p><p>how old he was.</p><p><br/></p><p>It only measured</p><p>his shoulders.</p><p><br/></p><p>Finding them broad enough,</p><p><br/></p><p>it placed</p><p>its mountains there...</p><p><br/></p><p>and watched.</p><p><br/></p><p>He bent.</p><p><br/></p><p>He cracked.</p><p><br/></p><p>He endured.</p><p><br/></p><p>By the time Ade understood</p><p>what childhood meant,</p><p><br/></p><p>it already belonged</p><p>to someone else.</p><p><br/></p><p>The child</p><p>did not die.</p><p><br/></p><p>He was buried</p><p><br/></p><p>beneath expectations.</p><p><br/></p><p>In his place</p><p>stood someone colder.</p><p><br/></p><p>Calmer.</p><p><br/></p><p>More calculated.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not cruel.</p><p><br/></p><p>Just exhausted.</p><p><br/></p><p>People mistook</p><p>his silence</p><p>for strength.</p><p><br/></p><p>They never heard</p><p>the wars</p><p>buried beneath it.</p><p><br/></p><p>They called him mature.</p><p><br/></p><p>They never saw</p><p>the boy</p><p><br/></p><p>who had been denied</p><p><br/></p><p>the right</p><p><br/></p><p>to be one.</p><p><br/></p><p>He did not become</p><p>the man</p><p>the world admired.</p><p><br/></p><p>He became</p><p><br/></p><p>the man</p><p><br/></p><p>the world required.</p><p><br/></p><p>And somewhere beneath</p><p>that disciplined exterior,</p><p><br/></p><p>the boy remained,</p><p><br/></p><p>feeding wolves</p><p><br/></p><p>that called it</p><p><br/></p><p>love,</p><p><br/></p><p>duty,</p><p><br/></p><p>pride,</p><p><br/></p><p>destiny...</p><p><br/></p><p>never realizing</p><p><br/></p><p>they had been eating him</p><p><br/></p><p>all along.</p><p><br/></p><p>The wolves</p><p>never thanked him.</p><p><br/></p><p>Hunger</p><p><br/></p><p>never does.</p>
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