I cannot breathe, and my body trembles. Confused, in disarray, laying my old bones on the concrete, they ache so keenly.

I am a confined spectacle, slowly dying on a stage the whole world can see.

I am an old bear, a sad bear, a bear so far removed from my original homeland
I never even knew where it was. A lonely bear, every scent reminds me of the one I lost.

I am an animal, a polar bear alone, I possess no reason and I know not why I suffer.

I know nothing of your bottom line, of admissions and politics.

I know nothing of the people who ache for me and shed tears over my plight,
how helpless they feel.

I know nothing of your refusal to even consider it. Maybe consider that the risk is worth the pain in your pocketbook.

For me to pass on in comfort, humanly. Even if I were to expire on the way to a better place, any place is better than this. The restful peace of death would be a glorious release.

If you won’t and you condemn me to live like this, take the dollars the people are willing to give and build me an enclosure, an ice palace for me to live out the rest of my lonely days.

You say I am comfortable with my handlers but even a beaten dog can love it’s owner. It knows no other way. I know no other way.

Because I am a bear and I know nothing of this. I know not why I suffer in this myriad of ways.

But you do.

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