Dear uncle, sold her into   Into the purest kind of slavery   Hood-eyed little middlemen profited   From damaged goods along the way      Good angels brought her back   To a last Nepal summer   Debased and hollow-faced   A smile might become her      Now, she's cozied up, cozied up   And comforted in the warm flush of September      Gone before winter, wondering as to might-have-beens   Somebody's daughter in sanctuary, waiting      Seen through softer cage of kindness   Far and further, still away   From time-warp Victorian zoos   Where staring ice cream gameboys play      Big paws, worn claws and swishing tails   More damaged goods in the market sales   Too proud for anger, too late for hate   Resigned in dignity      Gone before winter, purring might-have-beens   Somebody's kitten in sanctuary, waiting      Gone before winter, wondering as to might-have-beens   Somebody near you in sanctuary, waiting