How do you like this poem I wrote?

The lycan howls, the lycan howls,
But no one ever listens.
Inside this wound, it is true
that the silver bullet glistens.

For the lycan was just out,
Under a spell, under a spell
The people, they all shout,
(They can't tolerate differance well)

They Cry "Monster, Monster!
He's lurking in our streets!
The wolf-man must be beat!
The scary, horrid beast!"

But the lycan wasn't out to hunt,
he wasn't out to play,
He just wanted to get through tonight
And make it to the next day.

The lycan said ,"Don't be afraid,
I'm a very gentle soul,
Just under a werewolf curse,
I can't help it, you know!"

But the people, they don't listen,
Nor do they really care.
All they noticed were the claws
And the thick layers of hair.

One of the men pulls out his gun,
Angry, Fearful, Sacred,
He was about to Come undone,
For justice wasn't there.

In the moring, the gunman was dead,
With four claw marks in his head,
The werewolf carved something so true:
Hate equals blue

i like it...how poeple often misunderstand but never really listen....i sometimes feel that way when people think i'm pyhco but it really because i'm trying to hide my lonelyness and pain....you did a really good job on this...

I like it. It's dark and yet colorful. Bravo. ~M~