As alpha steps unto the rock and roars
His thoughts are fogged by the safety of his flock.
As loud and prestigious his roars all sound,
Inside, he is just a servant seeking for a pound.
As the days run by, his poise and fame they swell,
The thoughts of merry for his flock not his, excels.
Even as his torso grows to a comforting bulge,
His heart flickers as he watches impending worries.
As alpha lays his head down at night,
He drowns in thoughts of the morrow’s activities.
When he should rest with the others from the fight,
He lies fighting the urge to think of his fancies.
At day’s end, though Alpha’s lost the most important thing in life,
He rejoices because his jungle’s sound
Even though alpha doesn’t get to frolic as he’d love to,
He’s had a touch of an invigorating life.