One of the poorest countries
Mali seems to me
To have
It’s share of rubbish dumps
And mountainous they be
Worked by little donkeys
Who live each rotten life
Of long hours dragging huge weights
And Causing them such strife.
They haven’t any rights at all
Beaten up and blue
Made to work like slaves they are
Down the slopes each view
The mounting heaps of rubbish
The smell is off the wall
In the heat they soon are beat
And many slip and fall
It’s hell on Earth for all of them
They are degenerating fast
Big sores on their shins and legs
For them their die is cast
Obdurate and unforgiving
Halters that they wear
Cuts into their bodies
And tears away their hair
It can be very painful
Its truthfully unfair
To see the donkeys suffer
When many do not care
We have to really feel for them
Or four legs it must be
Really very dangerous
And everyone can see
Them Beaten kicked and spat upon
There’s no respect at all
They create so many victims
And you can hear them squeal
Their skins all torn and wounded
We can wonder how they feel
Their lives are one long punishment
Sore from halters that
Rub all day the skin away
The soreness they are at
Breaking point most of them
What a life to lead
Working
Like the clappers
With very little feed.