Open Plea by the Last Few Tigers on Earth

by Bob D’Costa

We are no enemies of yours, Mr. Man
and we live under the same sky as you.
Roofed under it, you and we breathe the same air,
yet you kill us.
For they say our skin fetches you twenty thousand dollars
and a bowl of tiger’s penis soup costs hundreds of dollars in Taiwan.

The same sun shines on you
and the same stars glimmer for us too.
Yet you thirst for our blood
for one intact tiger forearm brings hundreds of dollars.

Our feet walk over the same soil as yours
and the water which feeds our thirst feeds yours too.
Yet you have encroached into our land
and snatched our birthright.
Your greed has attacked our population
and under your selfish power we are but prisoners of war.
Our gene pool weakened, we are born with defects and mutations.

The cold winter touches you as much as it touches us
and the warm summer air brushes past us too.
Yet you kill us,
you inject us with pain,
you tear us limb to limb.

You only need to be in our place, Mr. Man
and we in yours.
Perhaps only then you will feel our pain
when we tear you limb to limb
and throw a party around your mutilated body.

But remember, we are no enemies

 

Editor’s Note on Open Plea by the Last Few Tigers on Earth

Open Plea by the Last Few Tigers on Earth is not Bob D’Costa’s first piece in Eastlit. The following pieces of work have appeared in earlier Eastlit issues:

 

Print Friendly