The Hunter’s Skin

This day’s assignment for Writing 201, really got me on something that I come across all over the globe; poaching. And so goes my prose piece for today, on the theme of that of “skin”. ©2015lavanya99. All rights reserved.

The Hunter’s Skin

I grew up in my home, the forest, where I was a kin to the king, the chauvinist.
Three of my brothers and me used to play in the mud, plunge into the flesh of the prey we sparred.
Drink to our thirst in the lake to our near, keep eyes open for the skin of a deer.
When once I thought it was there around and will be in my grip soon,I realised that I was myself caught by a goon.
The thick-skinned fella, I don’t know whom, had trapped me just for lust?
A tiger that I am, I didn’t know then, my skin, was valued by high-esteemed men.
The skin that I wore, sadly, according to them, suited better on the rich man’s carpet…!

Well, this was the tale of a tiger. But in reality it isn’t just tigers but thousands of other animals meeting the same terrible fate. But anyway, this was long but thank you for reading!

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