Three Tigers
A Donkey
And one corporation
Willing to take on GAIA
elation
At catching 3 Tigers
And not using dead meat
But a living Donkey
Where the flesh is so sweet
The Chinese were heartless
And unwilling to be
Reluctant to feel
Refusing to see
An aversion to care
Indisposed to a cure
Recalcitrant infidels
All unaware
Creating a Donkey
A miracle breed
Willing to labour
To slave for its feed
But loving its life
As we all tend to do
Spurning that fact
Pre ordained to be true
Iniquity provudes
Injurious shame
Adversity finds
Great grief in the game
And choosing to sacrifice
one of the same
Watching the miracle torn into bits
It took half an hour
Till the soul lost its wits
Drowned in its bile
Sank in its blood
screamed to the heavens
And was lost in the flood
The Tigers all three
Of them chomped fhrough the meat
Their stomachs soon filled
With an abominable heat
Toxic and caustic
and choked up with pain
One donkey down
But never again