I come from succession of werewolves
I am of the twelfth generation
But all those generations weakened
The strength of the genetic strain
For the world’s sake and human lives
I’m grateful for the benign outcome
To the people in my country town
I’m a well-liked local pastor of
A respectable Christian church
Though I lead a double life
When the moon becomes full
On those foreboding nights
I’m a horrifying, raging werewolf
Thank God the grisly killing part
Of my cursed beastly inheritance
Has been bred completely out of me
But on full moon nights I still morph
Into that preternatural wolf beast
And run and howl through forests
When a local accidentally sees me
And nearly faints from fright
And tells the people in the town
About the terrifying sight of
The darker, moonlit side of me
I’m downgraded to being called
A mere lesser Dogman and that
Insult enrages me so I almost
Wish I could go on a werewolf
Killing spree to avenge the slight
Bob Boyd