DEAR CREATOR

My days here are numbered

so I thought it was wise to share my thoughts.

Who knows, maybe in my death I will not meet you to share them face to face.

I remember back in the days

When I walked the streets with my head held high

You termed me a leader

Just the sound of my voice had everyone trembling.

My pride walked behind me,

We had nothing to fear......

Well, almost nothing!

The Moran boys were after our skin,

But at least it was only once a year.

A lot of time has passed since then,

Now some of my pride lie in a cage,

And perform various acts to please the humans

At least they get meals daily,

But what good is it all,

If they can nolonger walk in their pride,

With their heads held high?

Yeah, time has passed for sure,
The lack of green life all round is proof.

I miss the Moran boys! Thats another proof!

You probably think am stupid

But with them, I went down with dignity and pride.

Now, the air I breathe is all it takes,

To render me too weak to walk

Too weak to get my meal.

I now walk with my head low.

My shame will kill me before the humans do!

It is with shame that I come before you now

For what king would ever do this?

Accept defeat and await death?

But I have an excuse to save my face,

I think the whole game isn't played fairly.

My question for you is one,

If the humans could progress to these levels

And cause the jungle this much harm,

What about us?

Were we meant to progress too?

Or were we just to play a small part,

And somewhere along the wheel of progress,

Be no more?