I came from Sri Lanka
\nI remember the day
\nI was just 3 years old
\na baby they say
\nwith my dear mother
\nclose by my side
\nloving me, teaching me
\nI could confide<\/p>\n
with her, she was beautiful
\nshe was so strong
\nknowledgeable lovely
\nwhat could go wrong
\neverything, and it did
\none sunny day
\nwhen the sky was as blue
\nand a breeze made me sway<\/p>\n
men came, those brutes
\nwith their hooks and their chains
\ngrabbed me
\nthey hit mother
\nthose blokes were pains
\nsplit us up, shouted at us
\nfrom the start
\nthose men they didn’t have
\nany heart<\/p>\n
inside of me I did
\nand well I just cried
\nand as time has passed
\nwell each day I have died
\na little, I have become
\nsad and withdrawn
\nshe loved me a lot
\nfrom the day I was born<\/p>\n
she cared for me
\nhelped me
\nshe was there for me
\nand now I was packed up
\nand on the salt sea
\nemotionally I was such a wreck
\nthey had bill hooked my leg
\nand scraped my poor neck<\/p>\n
I was consigned to manila
\naddressed to the zoo
\na small concrete structure
\nthat just smelled of poo
\ndirty and dusty and all I could see
\nwas vast crowds of people
\nstaring at me<\/p>\n
throwing me bread
\nI don’t eat all that dough
\nthrowing me pies
\nall that fat
\ndon’t they know
\nI don’t eat meat
\nI like vegetation
\nbut they give me rotten food
\nno celebration <\/p>\n
of life
\nno nothing at all
\nand I of course can’t hear
\nmy dear mother call
\nI became quite depressed
\nthe boredom, its rife
\nI live in a nightmare
\nof pity and strife<\/p>\n
no where to forage
\nno dust baths to try
\nand keep my skin clean
\ndon’;t they know why
\nI need a nice water hole
\nthey do appear
\nto be dreadfully ignorant
\nthese people here<\/p>\n
I imagined my mother
\nand how she would feel
\nhad she coped when I left
\nno one did reveal
\nreally what happened
\ni think, she just died
\nOh!my darling sweet mother
\non her I’d relied<\/p>\n
no one, comes to see me
\nno vets around here
\nits dirTy and hot
\ninsect ridden, my fear
\nmy cracked heels and nails
\nare so very sore
\nand there is no grass
\njust concrete and more<\/p>\n
as for the keepers
\nthey are no use
\nthey work without thought
\nand give me such abuse
\nthey haven’t a clue
\nabout what I need
\nand honestly hopefully
\nnow you can read<\/p>\n
how my life has panned out
\nin this hell of a zoo
\nand hopefully you
\nwill be able to do
\nsomething together to make
\nlife for me
\nat least a bit better
\nthan what you can see<\/p>\n
I do so need help
\nI can’t die here
\nfor I
\nam already messed up
\nmy mind I rely
\non my eyesight and its going too
\nwhat to do
\nlay down and die
\nhelp me will you?<\/p>\n
y<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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