Thylacine
–
My heart cries out that,
our remnant memory of you,
is but a thirty second moment
where you pace around a shoddy cage,
barren except yourself.
A father and child pound
on wire to get your attention,
failing to realize they already have it.
While my heart shouts at your treatment,
at the hands of my kind,
my soul wails because,
even in our modern day
our hands beat on.