Foxes holed up in cages for their fur

Wild foxes
Beautiful creatures
Living in earths where they
Bring up families excellently
The innocence at play
Having to contend with hunters
With hunts outside the law
The well off country bumpkins
That think the fox is for
Chasing, torturing killing
Actually it’s a war
Of attrition and of evil
Chasing them with hounds
There is a law against all this
The barbarity though abounds

Then we have the fashionable
The snooty who believe
Fox hair is the epitome of luxury
Who achieve
Lots of barren cages
Tiny floors of wire
Where foxes just get fatter
And where the ignorant admire
They have no guilty feeling
Their indiscretion stinks
These animals are tortured
No one sees the links

They won’t recant
They are stubborn
Bloody unashamed
Wearing foxes around their necks
Yes of course all blamed
On them
These wild souls
Seemingly punished
For what they didn’t do

Puffed up and conceited
Swank and foppery
Ignorant of these blatant farms
Delusion actually
I love these wondrous animals
So gentle and so wild
Noble by authority
That they are sadly piled
Into darkly smelly cages
Prisoners of fear
Suffering the hopelessness
So the dandy’s then appear

Adorned with Hideosity
The pain of death
Sobbing abuse
Chafing irritation
A bitter pill a sort of noose
Affliction and adversity
Mournful and deplorable
The countless foxes suffering so
In ways that are unspeakable.