Who am I to complain?
I thought I owned the place.
I felt like a king ruling the land.
Freely roaming, I never felt like a loner.
After years of solitude, I failed to see the attention.
They invaded my little island.
They got baffled by my presence.
Theories after theories, no clear answer.
Only I held the key to the truth.
They allowed me to live, freely as before.
I was happy until they tried to play God.
Their intentions were noble, they cared for me.
I was cornered and sedated for routine checking.
I slipped into a deep slumber, and never woke up again.
I became a memory, a missing piece on the island.
Who am I to complain, I was just another being.
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In the memory of the majestic Brahman cow at Coney Island.
We will miss you deeply!
Photo and story credits to the below link:
