I see you by the glass, your jaw gone slack
Surveying my prodigious majesty,
Your taste cannot be faulted, yet you lack
Awareness of your own hypocrisy.
When children press their hands against my tank,
Their fingers flat against the curving glass,
Their wonderment’s encompassing and frank,
Their innocence will merit them a pass.
A child’s esteem’s not based on perceived rarity.
Whence comes their food, they do not have a choice.
They are oblivious to the barbarity,
By which the careless nearly drowned my voice.
Remember, what you do after you leave
May help to give one like me a reprieve.