“BALAN”

Just lying in the grass
Not moving in great plain
Suffering an agony
That drives most souls insane
Someone said he was beaten
His spine was broken too
And therefore just neglected
nothing anyone could do

Days passed and his suffering
Grew worse and worse but he
Had become invisible
A little tragedy
Then the angels found him
Realised that he
Was alive and wanted
To be saved, wanted to see
Another place other people
Was desperate to get away
And so managed to pick him up
And talk to him and say
For days he hadn’t eaten
And no water had he drunk
Terribly dehydrated
His poor old heart had sunk
To a low nobody realised
But by being cared for he
Rallied for that moment
He responded, we could see

We called the old boy “BALAN”
And he needed to
Rest clearly exhausted
By the stress he had been through
He didn’t have any fractures
He needed love and care
Rest and sleep
And lots of dreams
And knowing we were there

Sedation was his saviour
When he awoke we saw
His big brown eyes just glowing
Like they hadn’t done before
We picked out all the thorns and thistles
Matted in his hair
Which must have caused discomfort
On a scale beyond compare
He wasn’t eating by himself
But when we helped him, he
Lapped the liquid and seemed to want
More of it thankfully
Being on one’s own for so long
With the world outside
Basically ignoring you
Your soul urge is denied

I so felt for that poor old soul
The Assumptions people make
Such snobbishness and sniffiness
And meanness people take
Liberties with weakness
Casting aspersions everywhere
He didn’t have a fractured spine
He was locked in such despair
What was troubling him
More than anything
Was relieving his bowels
Pooping or just peeing
Was painful and his howls
Were inside himself such suffering
When nobody wants to hear
He did need some surgery
And That now was clear

Somebody had kicked him
Injured him and he
Had slunk off to be on his own
To die in misery
And had just been forgotten
Lying in the grass
Nobody loved him any way
They just wanted him to pass
But His eyes are now wide open.
A beautiful hazel hue
And there is joy in that old face
That’s what love does do
Someone somewhere will want him
Old souls one day die
But it’s not his time yet thankfully

I say this with a sigh.

STRAW PAWS