He seemed to be a normal child,
But standing all alone.
His eyes were dark and wild
In a body not full grown.
He’d never been inside a zoo
But tigers were in books.
He stared, as boys so often do.
And a tiger exchanged looks.
Through the bars, the boy was in,
With snarling and commotion,
Call the next of kin,
People wailed with emotion.
The very worst was feared,
A boy so young, a life gone south,
But when the dust had cleared,
A tiger’s tail hung from his mouth.
© Copyright, Philip Barton, October 1st, 2019. All rights reserved.
