The Tiger — Another Encounter
A Surreal Poem (originally published on Facebook on Oct 28, 2025)
Inside the warehouse, deep, very deep,
The moss, damp and slimy, is a dull dark brown-gray.
The old tiger roared throughout the day.
Two eyes appeared sunken at night.
Looking pensively at the corner of the warehouse.
It remembered glorious days,
when people considered it king.
Two front legs looked crooked.
Two hind legs had turned into barbed-wire hands.
Two hands, sharp, cold, and purple-blue.
Then, one day, powerful lightning struck.
It startled; it screamed.
Its soul flew wildly into the red paint box.
In that brief moment,
it longed to return to the house with a roof.
☘️
Thank you for reading. Your thoughts mean a lot to me.
Y.A.