You stand, still and silent,
Slowly pondering a fate sixty-five million years ago.
Your skull, maw wide open,
Relives that final moment with every second.
The posture you make, of hurrying legs and outstretched claws,
Is nothing but how the scientists strung you.
Though you have eyeless hollows,
You watch each creature that files past with yearning fixation.
People wonder, what were you thinking when the end came?
Only you know; because you're always thinking, and remembering.
To onlookers, you exist only as coal black bones,
And they'll never see anything more.
You are a forgotten beast,
You stand dead and yet live.