Ozymandias
At twenty, he stared
into the eyes of a tiger,
old and tired. Uncaring,
he hung it in his hunting hall.
During the Great War,
decorated for gallantry,
he was the toast
of his hometown.
He settled down,
saving the poor,
as a lawyer
of no small renown.
In his golden years,
he lost her.
His kids sent him
to a nursing home.
The staff smiled
and nodded when he talked,
silently ignoring him.
And he remembered the tiger.