I feel like a tiger, caged. Even though I am surrounded by comforts and beauty I know that it's all artificial. i feel love from onlookers but it does little to warm my heart. people look at me and marvel as they see majesty and pride but when I catch my reflection in the water I see only slouched shoulders and protruding ribs. I pace my cage, feeling numb, each stride making me more aware of the empty void eating me up from within and I roar to show my pain but I am punished even for that. They clap and I swiftly move my paw across the way but they mistake that too for aggression forgetting that I am a wild cat, this is who I am, this is instinct. the bold lines that decorate my fur have faded in my memories. I am no longer what I used to be; I am merely a ghost of my existence.
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