The Tigered Cage

The circus done, the circus train
pulled out of town in the wind and rain,
across the plain, then into hills,
and higher yet, into mountains with thrills.

But when the tempest broke out along a mighty front,
the train in the mountains was but a runt
of a toy on trick tracks with which the storm played,
and strained wheels screeched as cars were swayed.

Yet with the circus opening the very next day
in another town still far away,
the train pressed on with reckless speed,
not heeding the danger, obsessed by need.

Thus it entered into the trestled pass—
whipped with gusts and going much too fast,
and at the turn that screamed for ultimate *slow!*
it lurched and leaped in lost control.

Though metal strained insanely as it sideways flailed,
the circus train did not derail.
Yet the chains on the flatcar clangored, snapped and zinged:
the tigered cage had broken free and taken to wing.

Toppling and twisting down trellis and slope,
this tripping cage did now bring new hope
to the tiger tired of old iron bars
and riding endlessly on flatbed railroad cars.

End over end and bump upon bump,
the bars bent a little more with every thump.
The tiger roared as downward it hurled,
awaiting its moment to rejoin a free world.

Two endings, choose one:

1)

They found the cage, sans tiger, of course.
and for the loss of the tiger they felt great remorse.

Now that tiger roams free in the forest at night
reinvigorating its world with burning bright fright.

2)

They found the cage, sans tiger, of course.
And for the loss of the tiger they felt great remorse.

But for Tony the Tiger is was a great break
as he's now spending his life eating Frosted Flakes!