DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE Poem: Creature of Many Faces, by Zak Slater-Cooper

I lope around the corners of the room
Not wanted
A pest, a pain, a nuisance

I cannot help it, it is my nature
I am alone and I am howling
A distant shadow in a crowd of lights

Do not perceive me
I do not deserve it
Oh, but I want it desperately

I am the eternal survivor

Trickster, loathsome trickster, what is your true form?
A foul and mangy thing
Made manifest by fear and famine

Scavenge what you can
My fleeting friends
For when it is done there will be naught
But aching bones

I picked them clean myself