Thirty Iron Bars

They caught him on safari, so the plaque said on his cage.
His capture gave the Zoo a name, despite his roars of rage.
My family went to see him; I was only nine or ten.
The image of him pacing has remained with me since then.

I counted thirty iron bars around his small enclosure.
Awestruck by his majesty, I cared not for composure.
To me this regal creature with a heart untamed and wild, 
 would live his life on show to every adult, every child.

I cried out to my father, "Dad, this tiger should be free!"
He turned and smiled into my eyes and gently said to me,
"Son, there is a reason why the Zoo has brought him here; 
 his species may become extinct if they don't interfere."

His words made sense, but still I found it hard to understand:
How could this tiger live, content, imprisoned by man's hand?
The sight of him, as said above, stayed with me all this time.
For life behind those thirty bars, I never knew his crime.