They say a leopard never
changes it's spots. You
are spotless now. I wasted
my time painting
black circles onto
your body. Desperate
to keep things the same.
The rains came and
washed them all
away. Black puddles
of pathetic hope.
Your numbers are
dwindling, extinction
is near.
Without your spots,
you are common.
Just like the rest
of the pack.
Hunters in search
of easy prey.
You used to carry
yourself with a bit
of distinction. Your
spots set you apart
from the rest.
Now, I can hardly
recognize you.
A herd of plain
leopards circle
me, in for
the kill. And all
I see are
spots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very well written poem here well done and keep it up.