I don’t fit in- Look, See, pray

Orang-utan in conservation park

I’d fit right in.
If you had a party, and asked me to tea,
I’d eat all the lettuce and swing in YOUR tree.
I’d fit right in.
I’m looking sad, human, please send me home
To where fruit hung ripe and I had MY tree.
I don’t fit here.
My hair is too scruffy, I grew fat and lazy,
I ate to remember, and remembered to cry.
I don’t fit here.
I pull faces and scratch, such jolly capers-
A jester today, once prince of the trees.
I’d like to go home.
Rain forest clearance, trees gone to waste
Now smoke and hot ashes are all I can taste.
They took my home.
‘dozers and logsaws, the creaks and the crash-
Giants all felled, no-one asked if we minded.
My hope is sucked dry.
If I could write, or draw perfect pictures
Perhaps people might listen.
I have no home.
Replant the forests! Tear up the roads!
Then we could pretend that it all is OK.
But it isn’t.
And neither am I.

I don’t fit in.

Photographs and words (c) Richard Starling, 2021.

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