The Monotonous Melancholy - Poem
Wrapped in a thin blanket,
I stood looking at the sun rise.
Barely thick enough,
To protect against the harsh weather.
I still stood standing,
A lonely lion of the forest.
Not hoping for a season of rain,
Not hoping for a delightful evening.
Submitting to the whims of the others,
The lion lives out his years merely for the sake of living
I have rewritten this many times but can't be sure which version is better.