Tiger stripes of orange and black
aren’t so blank as they seem.

In fact they contain the secrets to life,
the universe, everything that’s ever been, everything in this moment
and everything that will ever be. And perfect lines of poetry.

And tigers like this information so
on those rare occasions they see each other
they discuss it only amongst themselves
and gain extra stripes on hearing something new.

And that is why when a human sees a
tiger in the jungle, they find themselves
being eaten. Not because they taste so good,
because the tigers like their secrets so.


Image found here: http://www.museumsyndicate.com/item.php?item=61082

NaPoWriMo day 29. Standing on the verge of getting it on.


About skyraftwanderer

A person who enjoys writing short story things, poetry and other random things that come into my head.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Tigers

  1. dulzimordash says:

    Reblogged this on Nature’s Abhorred Vacuum.

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