The thumbnail art is made by the glorious artist Sue Dawe (probably not on FA). She makes lithograph prints, has been since the 80's. I grew up collecting her art. I hope I don't get in trouble for posting it as my thumbnail, but I felt it fit the story/poem better. I do know her email address if I must ask her if I can post this as a thumbnail image, but I haven't as to date.
Continuing...
I wrote this in middle school (I'm 25 now) so it may come off as somewhat juvenile. It is still thought provoking though, and I felt the people on FA would appreciate the ideas it kindles.

as for the cut/past:
I will be posting the same comment for each poem, so that those that have not read any others still get the benefit of the comment. So here it is:

I don't claim to be a poet. But I figure if I can't post artwork (cause, even though I do have some to post, its either a)not anthro b)good, but not enough to get me to post on this site cause I am intimidated, or c)can't get my husband to show me how to use the scanner, and get it to the laptop that shares some files with our main computer (I'm not technically minded).
In any case, again, I figure I can at least post poems, of which I do have, can type, etc...
Since most people do not wish to click on "download" to read someone's stuff, I will also be typing it here, in the description, to give quicker, not need to download, access. They're all pretty short poems anyway, so it's cool.

What was it?

One day I fell asleep in the woods and woke to find a surprise. There I lay against a silky mane, so soft it was hardly there. The body it flowed forth from was soft but strong and bold. I lifted my eyes to its head and found a smooth gaze looking me over.
The gaze met my eyes at last. It was a calm gaze at first that soon turned to horror. Something was wrong. It struggled to get up, to turn away, taking its beauty with it. I cried out to it, begging it to come back, and it turned. I thought it was changing its mind, but instead it spoke.
With harshness as sharp as a sword it said,” I did not realize at first that you were human; I mistook you for a cub. But when I looked into your eyes I saw this could not be. I saw violence and murder, dishonor and destruction. These could not be the eyes of any cub except for man's, and I bid thee farewell.”
I did not call after it again, for I knew why it had left. Man's reputation had ruined all hopes of my succeeding, so I let it be. I don't quite remember what it was that I saw, but I knew it had more wisdom than man.