Cliff Walker Profession HUNTER

As a vegan of many decades
It sickens me to see
People earning money
From killing and the key
To all they do for others
Is hunting parties
Where
We intrude into their habitat
And murder them
Aware,
whose Aware
The hunters
Where money is the thing
Death and An end to living
This nightmare they bring

This man kills the big game
And decorates It where
It’s lying where it’s body died
In so much despair
Such harshness and such roughness
Unpleasant through and through
Murdered in cold blood it was
So the likes of you

A family on safari
Can revel in the kill
Can end the life of a family member
Who now is very still
Bleeding out of its orifice
So handsome ow is death
Arranged to look so charming
When it has no breath

The hunter is a weirdo
An ulceration he
Has a bout of what can be described
As insanity
Rather than leave the animals
Alone in joyful repose
NO they need to shoot them dead
And the response then grows

End a souls contentment
Cut it’s sweet dreams free
Send it off to the rainbow bridge
Let it die in agony
The safari is earning
Big bucks in the bank
The killing fields are growing
And everywhere is rank

They fail to hear the lamenting
The ululation sounds
The wailing and the whimpering
It’s Doing the rounds
The obscenity of safari
The tastelessness we see
Imagine every child at heart
Is crying inwardly.