For a Clouded Leopard

Oh, how it hurts my heart to see you Pacing in the false freedom Of your open cage. (Though I do know it’s for the best, You’re dying in the wild, you know. There are so few, so your prison Is what keeps you alive, though not free.) To me, you are a warrior. A survivor. In my karate dojo, You mean speed and deadly accuracy And paw-shaped hands with extended knuckles; A counter strike to a tiger’s claw. You have my respect, To inspire your own fighting style. But now you pace, And look at me And I can feel our similarities; Sometimes I’m an endangered species. Sometimes I am caged, And sometimes I can be a warrior. So we pace...