I am a baby bear
\nnot really that aware
\nborn in India
\nmy mother by my side
\nyesterday they came for me
\npicked me up unfortunately
\nput me in a little cage
\nmother roared for quite an age
\nshe was warning me that I
\nmight be forced to dance
\nI lie
\nthinking about her how she
\ntold me about this
\nmentally
\nshe was scarred by years
\nof pain
\nand it seemed it would
\nhappen over again
\nthis time to me
\nwhy was it so
\nthe painful thoughts in
\nme would grow<\/p>\n
what I remember was then
\nthey took
\nme out of the cage
\nand shook and shook
\nme till I thought that I would die
\nmentally I was less thean high
\nI was so tormented
\nin such distress
\nmy head was really in a mess
\ngiddy and sick
\nI wanted to lie
\ndown quietly
\nand yes perhaps
\njust die<\/p>\n
they threw me into another cage
\nunder a basket
\nI was there an age
\nwell it seemed so
\nto me anyway
\nno water no food
\nalone
\nto stay
\nlike this missing my mothers
\nbreath
\nthe warmth of her body
\nit felt like death<\/p>\n
I was cold and lonely
\nand feeling I
\nwas going to be left
\nhere to die
\nand me just a baby
\nnothing to do
\nbut lie here
\nthinking
\nwithout a clue<\/p>\n
as to what or why
\nor how or when
\nsuddenly in they came
\nthat was then
\ngrabbed manhandled me
\nhurt me so
\nad tied me to a post
\nyou know
\nthe rope was course
\nit hurt my neck
\nit was short
\nand it kept me in check
\nI couldn’t move
\nthere in the light
\nit hurt my eyes
\nthe sun so bright<\/p>\n
after the darkness
\nI could hardly see
\nthen kids threw rubbish
\nstraight at me
\ncame and tormented me
\njeering aloud
\nsome aimed kicks
\na big crowd
\ncame and booed and pinched and hit
\nI had to suffer all that shit
\nno where to go
\nno place to turn
\nand in the sunlight
\nI did burn<\/p>\n
then they came
\na frenzied soul
\nwith a red hot poker
\nfrom out of the coal
\nforced it through my muzzle
\nand I
\ncried out inside me
\nI must die
\nI must escape this torture
\nnow
\nreally honestly tell me how
\nhuman beings act like this
\nreally now taking the piss
\nthe sizzling and burning of my hair
\nit sculpted through my bone
\naware
\nof the the egregious pain I felt
\nno painkillers this pain had dealt
\nme such a blow
\nmy whole head shook
\nI couldn’t breathe
\nI daren’t look
\nI tasted blood inside of me
\nI cried out
\nalmost desperately
\nhopeful someone, someone
\njust might come and ease the woe
\nfor |I was numb
\nmy feeling left me for a while
\nas if someone had switched the dial
\nand I had become the walking dead
\nwith wide open eyes
\nand I bled and bled<\/p>\n
then that moron came
\nwith the coarsest rope
\nand threadelled it through my nose
\nthe hope
\nwas it all was over
\nbut soon I saw
\nthat it opened the wound
\nand exposed the gore
\nmy jaw was aching
\nmy nose was raw
\nthe act of breathing
\nleft me so sore
\nI was in such pain
\nthe perils of life
\nsuffering brought on
\nyet more strife
\nwhen he came with his hammer
\nand smashed my teeth
\none after another
\nand underneath my gums
\nthe splinters cut me so
\nmore blood and more blood
\nwas to flow
\nall my teeth soviolently
\nwere knocked out
\nand fell in front of me
\nI’d been beaten starved
\nand left for dead
\nfor hours and hours I bled and bled
\nI wanted to die
\nI wanted to be
\nfloating somewhere
\ninstantly<\/p>\n
then the hot coals glowing white
\nwere put under me
\ncausing a fright
\nwere they cooking me
\nalive I thought
\nwhat was the evil nasty sport
\nbut what they were wanting
\nwas making me dance the chance
\nto just get free
\nfrom the burning my feet burned
\nso sore
\nmore torture more pain
\njust more and more<\/p>\n
so I am, a dancing Bear
\nI go out in the streets
\nwith my handler
\nwhere?
\nwhere the crowds congregate
\nand then I dance
\nI dont really have chance
\nI have to dance or I dont get fed
\nor worse still I can just be led
\nto somewhere quiet where he will beat me
\nmy claws are gone and my teeth you see
\nI cannot retaliate anymore
\nI just take the beatings
\nuntil I’m so sore<\/p>\n
then I go back and dance
\nand he rattles his can
\nand the tourists come
\nand thats the plan
\nthey dont know the currency very well
\nand the enrich this fiend
\nthis shit from hell<\/p>\n
if this is my life
\ndancing each day
\nand then beaten
\nall this dismay
\nI beg the big god to end it for me
\nto spare me the rod
\nand to let me walk free<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am a baby bear not really that aware born in India my mother by my side yesterday they came for me picked me up unfortunately put me in a little cage mother roared for quite an age she was … Continue reading