The Last Tiger

• Matthew Clayton, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2017

Watch him prowl in the dark
Stalking his prey by dim moonlight
His prey looks around, a second too late
As the tiger gulps him in one big bite
He looks around with a watery eye
His mates all dead, shot by greed
For a fur coat or a couch at their expense
He wants to punish hunters for their deed
As his mates get shoved into a van
From the safety of the shade of the boab tree
He wants to rip them, tear them for their greed
His mates did not deserve to pay the ultimate fee
He can only watch as the van speeds away
All his mates, killed by the hunter
The tiger growls in a fit of rage
I am the last tiger