Short poem, by me
Ode to a relocated gator
They came for the noble fella the other day.
Told him he was too large and a danger to others.
Life is going to be better this way.
Under the watchful eye of professional care-givers.
No need to stay sharp for the hunt.
Lay still and wait for the rations to come.
Peace and quiet in your own partial space.
Avoid a trespass or angering another.
Assisted living for a primitive citizen.
Who could have imagined how it would end?
The buffalo knew but were forced to stay silent.
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