by Rebecca Nahid
Remember me, I'm number 43, in a living tomb or cage I look out and wander
What happens in that place called the world out yonder.
Somewhere beyond here exists that thing called life.
Happy tears, a child laughing, a husband, a wife.
Suddenly I am yanked out, my fur shaved something, rubbed on my skin.
The burning, itching immediately accentuates the pain and fear from within.
A sticky liquid is poured in my eyes, it stings and works its magic slowly.
By the end of the day my world is in darkness, I can no longer see.
What I don't understand is why I'm here in this lonely place.
For someone's polished floor or manicured face.
The air freshener has made your room smell fresh
Inside this hell all I smell is suffering and death.
Do you feel beautiful with your polished lips and glossy hair?
While my beautiful fur is cracked, sore, bleeding, gone is that fair?
Swinging your hair saying "I'm worth it!" were we worth it, those who suffered
for your mane?
For your shallow, worthless ways so many of us die in vain.
The fake lashes obscure your eyes or maybe you do not want to see.
The life you have condemned me to - what have you done to me?
While your hair gets lighter I struggle for every breath.
The tube in my stomach the forced inhalation, move me closer to my death.
Because I'm only an animal, I'm different to you so I'm okay to dismiss.
But if I'm not like you why test on me at all answer me this!
I only had one chance, we only get one life to live.
I had so many more things to do, so much more to give.
If I believed in reincarnation there would be another time, another place.
To experience the joy and pain of this journey to feel the sun on my face.
Yes nature can be cruel there are dangers and predators about.
But at least give me the chance for myself to go out there and find out.
Allow me to be the animal I've always wanted to be.
Born of a free spirit not chained in captivity.
My spirit, my soul, my life extinguished for the blusher on your face.
I am somebody yet I'm nobody I will be obliterated without a trace.
I'm number 43, I was here, I existed but it meant nothing for sure.
Remember me now.
Put your lipstick on.
And remember me no more.