The first whiff of fresh air,
By the mountains leading to the river,
So new, unlike the dusty old tents;
The grass soothed the wounded feet,
And he ran faster than ever before,
And farther than he had always known,
Away from all the pain he endured.
He stopped at the vast forest for shade,
Oh, he hadn’t been away from the sun’s glare,
In his rusty little cage where he could barely turn,
The cage that had been his home for years,
Ever since he was snatched away from his mother,
The memories that had grown faint said.
He walked to the stream, pulling the broken chain on his leg along,
Happily gulped down water he hasn’t had in days.
He looked around and felt so strange,
To see no humans staring at him,
The ones who cheered when he jumped into rings,
The ones who screamed and beat him to bleed,
The humans he grew angry on but feared.
He ran around the trees, soaking in their warmth.
He looked up at the birds singing,
He turned to the bees humming,
He looked far into the mountains he crossed,
And he thought of his brothers back there,
As he walked into his freedom,
Into the life he had always deserved.