No striped mourning
for tiger's untimely death
No stately funeral
for lion's last breath
No eulogies long and foxy
for the tale of sour grapes
No long hearse to carry
the elephantine remains
No memorial run to commemorate
the hare's defeat
No tears shed on crocodile's
drowning at the shore
No gravestone marking
hyena's resting place
_Here lies in peace
with all her heinous acts
behind her at once_
No drums, no drama
no anniversaries to recur
The lives of anything less human as if
had no meaning even in death
Their fate could be
bought, sold and sealed
at a zoo, in a circus-ring
or under a butcher's knife
at a deli across the street
Not amounting to much
more than just the taste
for human's evolved
pate or palate
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