The Tiger

They hunt us for our bodies.
They hunt us for our bones.
They hunt us for our heads.
To put in their stately homes.

They lock us up in cages.
It should be against the law.
And if my anger rages.
I would be sent to heavens door.

They train us for the circus.
To jump through hoops of fire.
I dream about my Indian home.
That is all that I desire.

I long to roam the forest.
With a river running through.
Somewhere I can run and swim.
And meet a friend or two.

I hear the rattle of the keys.
The keeper comes once more.
To take me where I will perform.
On the sawdust of the circus floor.

Think, next time you visit a circus.
And you're sitting in a crowd.
Is this something to encourage.
Is this something that makes you proud?

Copyright ? 2003 by Maureen Flynn-Smith. All Rights Reserved
May be used in unchanged form by avowed Animal Rightists if accompanied by this copyright message.

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