He lies with eyes of hate that wants to burn the days open in a cage,
glares at everyone that walks past on the other side with rage
and the pointed tufted ears are pricked up where he is ready to bite
where he does growl and hiss and claw as if everything does him incite
fights against the bars with claw and teeth as if they do escape encourage
bloodthirsty does constantly jump madly to and thro
like a wounded angry thing that does not know where to go
where against every living thing he does his war wage,
glares at everyone that walks past on the other side with rage.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem