A Tiger in the zoo He stalk in his vivid stripes The few steps of his coge, On pads of velvet quiet, In his quiet rage. He Should be lurking in shadow, Sliding through long grass Near the water hole Where plump deer pass. He should be snarling arourd houses At the jungle 's edge, Baring his white fangs, his claws, Terrorising the village But he's locked in a concrete cell, His strengh behing bars, talking the length of his cage, Ignoring visitors. He hears the the last voice at night, The patrolling cars, And starts with his brilliant eyes At the brilliant stars.
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