Hunter

His red tunic gives the game away
The leather jodhpurs all can pay
The hounds the rounds the pounds
We see
Arrogance which most agree
The fox a shy and timid soul
Family orientation
Such control
Lost in his sojourn to find food
Coming up against a man imbued

With ugly thoughts
Off Nature’s path
Whose eyes see only doom and wrath
Whose heart is wooden bent and dried
Who is wretched and deep in his inside
Is leaden truly
Never a man
Who blows his horn
I am not a fan

He breaks the law
For the laws an arse
And his reward
Is a permanent pass
He can create in his drunken state
And kill and kill
At an alarming rate
He is the hunter
A man in red
Who surely would be better
Dead.