Donkey rides

We call them working animals
Its suits us
But they are equine wonders
And for me
Donkeys are
Gentle perhaps and just too amenable
They be
Believing and persuadable
A little bit naive
Trusting and confiding
And thats why they achieve
Perhaps too much attention
From the lazy threatening mob
Who work them much too easily
By just raising their gob

In greece to see the artifacts
A winding road maybe
And instead of tourists walking in the sun
They ride for free
Testing little donkeys
With their corpulence abroad
Their chubbiness their stoutness
Which no one can afford
Making the donkeys suffer
Making them undergo
Stress and strain and rotten pain
The tourists puff and blow
Showing their unrefinement
Their shameless loutish streak
Insensitive abusers
What is it that they seek

A modicum of thoughtfulness
They will not get it here
Why not walk up the road using their legs
It seems so clear
Its not their rotund bodies
Its just their sophistry
And why donkeys have to suffer
Feels very sad to me