[ WP ] As an endangered human male raised in captivity , you 've never actually met another of your kind . Today , you notice an extra chair added to your kitchen table . There 's a knock on the door .

I've spent so many lonely days behind this wall of glass, 
 With faces pressed up close to have a peek. 
 I wish my life had meaning, but I must say that, alas, 
 It is a lone existence that I eke. 
 
 So many meals in silence had, as spectators look on, 
 They gasp in awe as I choke down the meat. 
 But just as soon as they arrive, as soon then they are gone, 
 Of other souls my life is then deplete. 
 
 Yet something seems quite off today, and I spy something new. 
 Two chairs? Why, this is something queer indeed. 
 I glance aside in fear and wonder to the waiting crew, 
 With no idea, no hinting and no lead. 
 
 The wooden door, long still and strong, resounds then with a knock, 
 Afraid, I stumble back against a seat. 
 What could it mean? My heart pounds fast against my chest with shock, 
 As I wait for my destiny to meet. 
 
 The door creaks open, slowly, to reveal a human form, 
 I blink and gaze upon her, mouth agape. 
 To see here such a beauty, with so bland a world a norm, 
 Her soft blue eyes, the skin and such a shape! 
 
 I look back at the keepers, who encourage me with smiles, 
 I know deep down inside what I'm to do. 
 And with a voice that cracks, a sound bereft of joy or guiles, 
 I stutter softly, `` My-my name is Drew.'' 
 
 She pushes hair back from her eyes, her gaze fixed on her feet. 
 They shuffle slowly, then she glances up. 
 She smiles a little, then says in a whisper, soft and sweet. 
 `` Hello there, Drew. My name is Buttercup.'' 
 
 I feel with her this tiny place has grown to twice its size, 
 And somehow, now the future seems more bright. 
 I think it must be said amongst the learned and the wise, 
 A life alone is life without a light. 

