Work Text:
I am dragged by the collar locked around my neck,
Surrounded by excited cheers and bright shine.
I look up in shame, at the one who holds the axe.
He ruffles my pale fur like he loves me.
My purpose was serve them,
My suffering will benefit those in power,
Those who are twirling and singing under the colours.
And He’s only here to carry out orders,
So I mustn’t be too bitter, no?
And yet here I am, bitter as the coffee grounds they pour at dawn,
Wishing that I could be the one dancing, clad in glitter and silks.
I can’t help but hope for His untimely demise,
But He holds the axe, He decides.
And my heart is buried in a bed of coffee grounds.
As I’m led away and thrust into the shadows,
I close my eyes and wish that I too,
Was dancing under the Eid lights.
