Beware of the Cynic

I'm a cross of all the breeds
That you tried to keep apart.
A wild animal awoke in me,
That lives on its own instinct.
I have the keenest of senses,
That nothing can hide from.
I'll dig up all you've buried
And never want to see again.
Yet I can sense no boundaries,
For none are there to tame me.
Don't speak to me of cleanliness,
When it's you that all makes ill.
There's nowhere you can run,
For I'll always overtake you.
But wolves are not so fearsome.
When seen among their kin.

"Cynic", from kynos,  Gr. "dog", nickname for Diogenes of Sinope

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