When they take my paws, I use feet to walk instead. When they take my fur, I use clothes to keep me warm. When they take my tail, I use my ears to keep myself upright. When they take my whiskers, I use my other senses to navigate the world. When they take my forest, I make the city my home. When they take my wild heart, however, My veins run cold, My blood goes stale, And there’s no coming back.
