The Tiger

As the tiger roams the jungle,

looking for his prey,

his fur all in a mangle,

he spots a place to stay.


A place perfectly camouflaged,

his stripes not even seen,

and though he is a big old cat,

he is still very keen.


He can spot an eagle from miles away,

a zebra,

or gazelle,

or lion, per say.


He stalks in the shadows,

like an owl in the night,

and can sneak up to his victims

and kill without a fright.


His paws like fluffy pillows,

muffle his every stride,

so when he’s walking towards you,

you better lose all your pride.


He’ll run and catch a monkey

in less than a blink of an eye,

and tho this may be gruesome,

it’s nature and it’s not shy.


A tiger’s life is hard,

for when you fail to catch a meal,

you can go hungry for a week

and desperate you will feel.


But do not underestimate his power,

for even in greatest of need,

he puts aside all other thoughts

besides those of feed.


And feed he will

and feed he must

his mouth of which

has food driven lust.


His roar echoes through the world

a sound fearful and mighty,

and  when you hear this call of his,

he will try to fight ye.


But before he does,

he catches a meal,

a rack of ribs,

from a lion he will steal.


But before he does such a desperate task,

the lion he must defeat,

and a beast he must kill,

otherwise he’ll be swept off his feet.


For beating a lion is hard to do,

because a mighty beast is hard to beat,

for they are strong

and quick on their feet.


But the tiger has desperation

on his side,

so he will win,

and beat the lion’s pride.


The food he will gain,

and his stomach empty no more,

since the rack of ribs

is a large one of boar.


The tiger has won,

and survived the day,

now back to his home,

the place where he stays.


-Lindsey LaBrie



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