I never said
I taught you to roar
You always had it in you
deep in your throat
you just took your time.
But then I was there
when only meows and purrs escaped your lips
instead of the growls of a jungle beast
when all you did was run and pounce and fall.
I couldn’t carry you
so I just fell with you
wanting you to stand
so that you could lift me.
I cried your tears
because lions don’t shed tears
They only shake their mane and bare their teeth.
Now your growl is thick
Your roar is strong
And I am a doe
that must either become a lion
or get left behind.