Duma

Trickling snowfall brushes the hallway.
Once did I grow small and cry about the days,
when there was no one ever worth it
forever outlawed, birdcage left hopeless,
but like a kitten hiding in bushes,
their eyes wide with wonder,
they tugged at the snowfall and tucked me right under
the bramble wall.

You are an outcast,
You're running at 70,
through dense leaves and canopies,
can't zigzag through rocky trees
when there's a beautiful savannah way out far.

so run, run Duma,
run like the cheetah you are

Hunched, climb paws forward, bundled and tortured,
brothers of big cats that fumbled in horror,
turns out nature is not so great,
but we all taste bittersweet on our plates.

so run, run Duma,
run like the cheetah you are

through buildings and windows and rockslides and fire shows
since when did freshwater ever feel so unkind,
since when did a stray bird ever land in a gold mine,
and when did our people ever become hunted,
and why did I feel like I never was wanted,
now suddenly I'm on my way

so run, run Duma,
run like the cheetah you are.

(Thanks for reading, I'm looking for a bit of editing possibilities on this one, since I like the theme but my word choice feels off, I'd like your opinions though.)

Edited for format

1 2