Our eyes meet
your gaze is terrifying
I want so badly to look away
but                               I can’t
Even through the thick glass
I can feel the energy between us
are you aware that I understand?
are you aware that If i could get you out of here,   I would?
are you aware that I know that this is cruel, that this is not where you belong?
I’m sorry
I’m so, so sorry
I’m sorry for all the mother’s screaming at their children to say “cheese”
I’m sorry for all the flashes going off in your bottomless pupils
I’m sorry for all the people gawking, and tapping on the glass. The children screeching, “Look! It’s Simba!”
Did you have a mother?
Did you have children?
Did they take you away from paradise or were you born here?
In this hell, this prison, where families come
In your eyes I see thousands of years of evolution,
I see the jungle you came from, the trees you lived in, the mountains you feasted on,
the rivers you drank from
In your mane I see the golden sun,
and the reflection of the moonlight in fresh waters
Your paws carry thousands of miles of running at lightning speed through the savannah
You look like you’re desperate to open your mighty jaw and roar, calling out to your kingdom
I can feel your gross disrespect for me
I can feel your hatred for everything, and everyone
Your lethargic anger makes me wonder if you have any idea that this was not supposed to be your life
Of course you do
You probably think I’m ridiculous for pressing my face up against the glass and staring at you for ten minutes.
“Why are you crying human? You put me here.”
I bow down to you with my utter and undivided respect,
but that will never be enough, for the lost king of the jungle