A spiritual tale

A tiny little mouse has found
A chunk of cheese
There on the ground
Made of cows milk possibly
So not mouse food
It’s plain to see

But it’s been left there
By human kind
It’s what they eat
And what blows their mind
And Disney probably told us all
That mice love cheese
Yes as a rule

But really all that salt and fat
And colouring
Is not where they are at
And being forced into a trap
That is loaded
It is so much crap

But the trusting mouse imagines
He
Has the luck of job
And reluctantly
Sits there nibbling away
Till he trips the spring
And is made to pay

Down it comes on his
Fragile spine
His tail still wagging
Down the line

46 seconds after that
He passes gold
And smells a rat

At that point onwards his souls departs
Flies to the right
And breaks some hearts

Did you see it
I am sure you did
Spiritually
lifting the lid

Clearly the flight of the wounded soul
And from his aura complete control
Death and it’s force of passive cloud
That causes the body the honest shroud
To leave and fly so as to progress
And look back down at what they love less

Caught in the trap
That mechanism there
In the dusty garage of despair
It broke his back
Not there by chance
Based on man unkind’s arrogance

Another soul departs to fly
Someone up into the sky
The cows milk cheese
Was the gold drops he
Managed to pass so earnestly