Discarded fishing tackle

Discarded fishing lines
Upon river banks
Anglers they call themselves
Many are planks
They don’t use their common sense
Discarding shot
Discarding fishing gear
They do it a lot

Even in my time
In the countryside
Bait boxes maggots
Where children climb.
Over fences near rivers
On canals everywhere
Anglers they get on my nerves
They don’t care

Ducks, moor hens, swans even
Owls too, we see
Caught up in lead traces
Frightened they be
Discarded lead shot
It’s, a vile sport
That will come back to haunt us
When these toxins are caught

Up in the environment
In the fish, people eat
In the feathers and bones
The so called elite
They lower the tone
Raising the fear
Rivers and beaches and lakes
They appear
Neglected and injurious
Our wild life they scar

Often on line, owls
Left to die caught up in the cat gut
The nylon it’s why
So many victims
We now see on line
Animals injured
By discarded line

And out in the countryside
Litter just thrown
Into our woodlands
The problem has grown
Fly tipping monsters
Pull up and Chuck
They ruin our countryside
And they don’t give a fcuk

Animals dying chicks in the nest
Waterlogged brooding
We need to arrest
These filthy intruders
From where ever they come
Destroying our countryside
Leaving me numb
Angels there are some
As for hunters and shooters
The foe
They need to be locked up
Wherever they go
More cameras to catch them
Our beauty spots we
Need to stop this bad stamp out
Man made purgatory