Home is where I freely float,
brown, soft animal boat.
Home is where I rest my bill
on the water that is so still.
Home is drifting down the stream,
fresh, blue droplets gleam.
This place we’ve only ever known,
our wild, free, beloved home.
No longer safe, we cannot stay:
killed, stuffed, put on display.
Home is now a giant room
where animals stare out, sad with gloom.
Home is now a clear glass cage
where we are left to rot and age.
Dunedin Secondary School Poetry Competition