I was a tiger. Now I lie dead –
a tragedy for a man, a tragedy for a beast.
My wall’s height wasn’t right – too low instead.
I no longer have life, but I have freedom at least.
No mellow cat was I; anger led me to do harm.
I was bred to rule a jungle, be master of my domain.
Instead I was on exhibit; so I mauled a keeper’s arm.
I should have roamed free; in a zoo I had to remain.
Discontent and accumulated rage welling inside me,
I made the leap to freedom; that jump was tough.
Some will say the man I killed taunted me, but, you see,
of life confined in a zoo, I had simply had enough.
That whole situation was just messed up and improperly handles. Why where the walls all these years knowingly shorter than they should have been. I am sad for the lives lost, but I am also saddened for what the Tiger and other animals have to endure....
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
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Be safe,
Karen