A set pattern does not lead to a bright future

It’s back to front
It’s pure inversion
An undermining
The badger wild soul
Sett in stone
Stands his ground
And though alone
Takes on the arrogant farmer who
Lies through his back teeth
Nothings true
When TB really is in the frame
And husbandry is a poor game
The government apparently
Have all the answers
And a key
To all the locks except the one
That can unlock the special gun
That fires the Silver bullets which
Fulfils the need and Makes the pitch
Nothing the badger ever does
Creates the viral venom buzz
Wildness was created by
The great Mother from on high
With Her eminence and her progress she
In leaps and bounds did assuredly
Prefer and progress everywhere
In a balanced state that’s wholly fair

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