I once drew a picture
Of this hideous looking creature
A height of 20 feet tall
Marks like scares, some big, some small
A face centred with eyes of anger
Fingernails sharp just like a dagger 
Body covered in pinkie-blue hair 
Standing still with a piercing stare
A voice loud like a horrific laugh
A trident held strong, like a staff 

By its knees, with press cards in hats
The reporters with cameras ran like rats
The army positioned in hostile wait
A tank with its barrel pointed straight

A space saucer with its lights blinking 
Stood behind this alien being
A speech bubble floats in the air to tease 
The alien's words 'we come in peace' 

Disappointed I was by the mark I got
I don't think the teacher unravelled the plot
This image was all about human perception
Missed, was to see the honesty of the alien

What if the angry face was pleasant from where it came 
The voice heard as comforting or something the same
What if the scars are part of its genetic cells
The nails and size and shape and all else
The trident brought as a symbol of trust
What if the alien was peaceful and just
Could the words in the bubble be seen as true 
Would that change the perception for you

It wasn't the alien threatening to attack
But the barrel of the tank pointing back
Perceptions deny the truth of what is real
The teenage me drew a picture to reveal.