by Tally Oliveau
I open the cage door
every day,
hearing the growls
of my angry tiger.
Pensive,
I find myself deluded
by thoughts
that I have trained
my tiger well,
and that it is
ready
to do my bidding.
Snarling
Prowling,
in its dark cave
it awaits
to pounce.
Knowing
I am unaware.
Knowing
I am naive.
Knowing
I stand alone
at the cage door.
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