(It’s always different to use an odd narrator. Can you guess who the narrator is?)
Roaming the plains of “Africa”.
Sitting watching MY domain.
I purr and growl how this is a pain.
Scraping my claws on the ground.
Yawn and wait until the day leaves
And the night starts to play.
The animals do not fear me here.
I still patiently watch,
But it seems as if the lights don’t go out.
Meat is tossed my way.
I dare not take it.
Scavenge I do not.
These creatures make faces,
But whose to say I care?
My voice goes off and they run scared.
Maybe signs would tell me something.
If only I could read or speak.
Then they would say to me,
“Why should the cat be caged?”