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Sovereign

by
John Day

I cannot know myself.
So lock me in a space
too small for my needs.
Argue that my pacing
Is normal, that I need no room
to race my heart, to stalk, to play
to hunt, to run, to prey.
Argue I no longer remember
my land.
I am not capable of remembering.
Each day I wake I am content.
I am content to feed on uncaught prey
. I am content to see my visitors
who point and wonder.
Some even say `shame, shame.'
Then forget their words
in small distraction.
And finally argue this is the only way to save me.
To breed me here.
You who came and accused me.
Judged and sentenced too.
I accept my fate.
Is it surprising I can understand
you have done this to me?

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