Sallu the pony

The Tonga or the cunnicle
Is a one man coach
Providing
a passenger and luggage
Really for the riding
Up against the. AST crowds
The traffic everywhere
The ponies drawing these
Do find it’s hard out in the air
So much vile pollution
And these poor souls travel far
The air they breathe
The journey long
Their Pok bodies we scar

It really now is dying out
But still some do abound
And suffering the illness
That many before have found
India is a metropolis.a d has always
Helped but they
The ponies be5 a bashing
Every single day

It’s hot and their vital senses
And quicker to shut down
struggling over duty streets
All around the town
New passengers and heavy cases
And each little soul must try
A fight the heat the flies
The slopes and nit just lay and die

They get a kick from time to time
No water and no hay
The drivers think of their own selves
And the pony has to pay
A high price for their ignorance
For their total lack of care
They forget this is a living soul
And the needs now is to share

But one such soul called “Sallu”
Suffered for days and days
It’s really hot in India
And struggling it pays
To get fromA to B it’s true
By the phoney newest cart
They really need a dose of love
But nobody yes straight from bath
PEta is now on the case
Needs they really be
struggling for hours on end
To survive this purgatory.