Paul Barton Piano player extraordinaire

Remorselessness and heartlessness
The forest tribes embittered by
Made to slave in temperatures
Truthfully far too high
Working at the logging stages
Very heavy arduous work
Branches scratching deep wounds
Where bugs and true infections lurk

Elephants great hearts that render
Hours of slavery every day
Unbelievable feelings they have
But we take them for granted say
We ever thought of how they suffered
Ever cared about their pain
Instead we just expected more
Their remonstrations all in vain

Deforestation clearly madness
When its was halted what we found
Was elephants tired and exhausted
Some were blind too and the ground
They walked even that was painful
So a sanctaury was where
Some were put to live their lives out
Far removed from the despair

One man his name it was Paul Barton
He could feel the angst and pain
He played piano and enjoyed the music
Every single sweet refrain
Those vibrations all that goodness
He imagined he could feel
The blind elephants their reaction
To his music it was real

Empathy a mutual respect
Unselfishness and mercy mild
With only the best intentions
He could feel their very wild
Enlightenment, and benediction
So large but gentle they did sway
Clearly they could feel the music
The recognition of the way

A gratefulness and appreciation
Beholden to each other they
Paul was playing the elephants listening
To the order of each day
A dummy piano a mock expression
Elephants clearly participate
Watch and learn the certain rhythms
Grateful for the meditative state

Absolution and such forbearance
For the torture from before
Their longsuffering seemingly softened
By whatever unique score
Somewhat of a vindication
Watching hearing melody
Those vibration brought them promise
And some true integrity