I am an ant. Marching on my many little legs, holding a grain of sugar in one hand. In a line, with the other hundred ants, I am nameless. My grain is important, though. Without it, baby ants will go hungry.
I am a cockroach in your kitchen cupboard, indestructible. I will find my way in, make it home, and love it. I deserve it.
I am a soaring Fish Eagle, watching from above, circling, protecting.
I am a battery chicken, my feathers never grown properly, my claws never reaching the paradise of dust. The automated lights keep me up beyond my bedtime, my wake time, my anytime. I see the light from outside under the shed door, though.
I am a lion, brave and proud. My mane shines in the African sun as I roar, and small animals skelter away, frightened of my might. I will kill only if I'm hungry, or if you make me angry, or to protect the ones I love.
I am a laughing hyena, giggling at your jokes, sharing your secrets, finding the funny side. I may not be beautiful, but I have a sense of humour, and a hell of a laugh!
I am an elephant, I don't forget. That sadness in my eyes is from what I've seen, the tears are not in your imagination. They are my tragedy, pouring out of me in rivers. I trumpet and wag my ears, to look cross but, really, on the inside, I am sad.
I look across the African plains from my cliff-edge hold, my fingernails clawing into the face, clinging on. Above me, the enormous blue sky, the sun smiling warmly. Below, me a sheer drop and then, pure beauty. Keep clinging.