Lion

I am what is depressing about a lion. Do you really want me to spell it out? No, you don’t. Please focus on the lightly stuck out tongue, panting; on the brown scar down the bridge of the nose. This will get you closer to the analogy I am trying to convey. The shimmering, heated air masks the falseness of my bravery. Yet I pump my spirit with adrenaline out of sheer necessity. My pride is thin but beautiful. I would protect it against hyenas.