Poachers

The low of the low
The wicked you know
Ungodly amoral
All of these things
No license to kill
An iniquitous pill
Heartlessly cold
And all that that brings

They have no emotion
They are obscene
Backsliding low life
Who really are mean
Unpardonable constructs
Transgressors of sin
Endangered whatever
They just need to win

These two whooping Swans
They came to Kashmir
Beautiful high standing
Without the fear
Wondrous in flight
Deferential as well
Shot out of the sky
In what was a spell
of evil and ugliness
That is for sure
A crying shame
That we all can abhor

Six altogther
Made the long trip
Over the mountains
Until poachers rip
Into their feathery boundaries
And they
Leave their hearts and their souls
In heaps so to say

Poachers are low life
Unfitting and wrong
They just mean murder
And do all belong
In the brimstone and sulphur
The excrement where
All of the waste of the world
They can share

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
This entry was posted in Abandonment, activism, birds and the environment, Hunting and Poaching ( includes canned hunts). Bookmark the permalink.

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