ANNE13

So many empty words I hear
All platitudes and I
Am Anne and I find unfathomable
Do they just want me to die?
To fade away completely
Longleat seems to me
They misconstrue my every wish
Just to live in a sanctuary

They kind of dismiss, my arthritis
Fircing me to conceal
I have to remain furtive
And thats despite how real
The pain is and the sand heaps
They affect my back legs so
Any kind of stress and strain
And my joint pain it does grow

I have to keep things secret
My riddle is within
The vets will come and give me hell
And the osteopath will win.
Already I am exhausted
From the negativity
From not having a friend to chat with
It affects me mentally

I never liked to be here
Its a throwback to the past
Bobby Roberts and the Chipperfields
My die alas was cast
Long ago the daily mail collected
All that cash
But getting into longleat
I never saw as flash

Lots of histrionics
And all that ballyhoo
There was going to be a elephant place
Which didnt turn out to
Be anything like they talked about
Of course now I must be
The pushover the sitting duck
I feel like their patsy

Elephant Haven thats the place
Where I ought to go
Out in the wilds of France
And Not part of a show
A sanctuary with other friends
Where I can just retire
Meditate and end my days
And retain my inner fire

I am just part of a business
The balance sheet and all
Where everything is costed
And going to the wall
Is talked about and justified
Why I should so remain
Alone all day and night
It has become a pain

Visitors must want to see me
And I just want to stay
In my own space actually
Not gawped at every day
The ravages of time
And the weakening in me
My mental state is never great
And sometimes constantly

Getting up sometimes I stress
My sufferings my own
Sometimes the activity
Really makes me groan
Sometimes I am unwilling
To be part of their show
I have struggled all my miserable life
And now I need to go

I really need that sabbatical
With friends of my own size
A breathing space respite in case
Where people realise
Old elephants get weary
Burnt out maybe so
On ones old legs whacked and knackered
And footsore dont you know

Some peace and quiet
Decommision me
I am unarmed and non violent
They should be conciliatory
I need a spot of wildness
Not so much adversity
I need to do my own thing
Not be coerced no more
I never want to see bullhooks
For I know what they are for

I lay down and I close my eyes
Which is when the demons come
All those circus beatings
My legs they became numb
I toss and turn
Constantly yearn
For the wildness where I could be
Treated with respect and love
In that lovely sanctuary.

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
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