If we don’t cry for the African Elephants nobody else will

In Africa alas the bullets
fly in all directions
the Chinese have their cohorts
bought slaves from anywhere
and with their new found
wealth
the Elephants, don’t stand a chance
its open season
and complete despair

Its ivory they are after
and the poachers come in force
those splendid tusks
are worth a bomb
in Shanghai, and of course
What chance has the Elephant
a bold and powerful soul
who will charge and barge
protecting its baby
but the goal

is clearly every agony
a mother can sustain
as her baby will be shot and
butchered too
for in that rain
of bullets every living soul
is cut down and is left
their tusks hacked off their bodies
lying their bereft

of thought, of care of feeling
suppurating fast
death’s odour attracts maggots
and their unrelenting blast
of energy a seething
mass of irredeemable flesh
violated annihilated
in a moving mesh

The poachers lack all spirit
they are knaves who disregard
the habitat, the heritage
everything is scarred
hoodlums in effect
fuelled by the money of the rich
compassion they don’t have it
its not within their pitch

its murder in cold blood
without a care or anything
they bring a bloody armoury
and all the trumpeting
of Mother Elephants trying
to protect their little one’s
is wasted on these degenerates
with their automatic guns