An unfortunate Western lowland Gorilla

Think of ZEYTIN
Just a baby
ConfiscateD from the wild
Packed into a wooden crate
I mean to say he was a child
Only knew about the Congo
The virgin jungles there about
Already on a tumbledown lorry
And without a doubt

Flew across the sea to Bangkok
Via Istanbul we hear
A tiny little lowland gorilla
in side a crate so that was clear
Living in a steamy
jungle
Lots of vegetation there
He could eat the fruit
In season
With his mother by his side
She was teaching Him the best place
And in those hollows he did hide

When he got to Istanbul
That’s in Turkey
What they said
You were in a crate, labelled rabbits
And you did look underfed
So you can stay here in our zoo
And we willFeed you fruit that we
Can find selling
in our markets
And much happier you will be

the little gorilla
Missed his family
His dear mother who taught him much
And missed his dad who use to hit him
Really now he felt outs of touch
Reality was in the jungle
With other gorillas
Where he could speak
Congo rilla that was his language
In Turkey he just felt so weak
And apparently the Turks have stated
He can now always stay here so
Caged up like a prisoner alas
The little primate down below

No vegetation no steamy jungle
On his wooden crate he sat
Visitors threw lots of insults
He was gradually getting fat
Eating buns and cakes and biscuits
Ice cream cones and chocolate stars
Not good food for lowland gorillas

What will become of him

A fictional story. Based on a real event

we hear