Cub hunting

They are what they are
Indiscriminate creeps
They call themselves hunters
Their identity reaps
Their portraiture stinks
One small caricature
A complete contradiction
Ambiguity thinks
Irrelevant people
That’s who they are
Incongruous louts
Who think that they star
As leading roles
They just are awry
Overloaded with crap
For me I could cry

When cubs are chased
By those who become
Not only ignorant
But arrogant some
Reckon themselves
Second fiddle me thinks
An assemblage of nut jobs
Just missing links

Personalities disordered
Neanderthals who
Just throw their weight about
That’s what they Do
Shout expletives at Sabs
The angelic wild souls
They use horses as weapons
Aggressive roles

The call themselves countrymen
But haven’t a clue
About the wild animals
And what they do
How they live
How respect is painstakingly theirs
Their place in the forest
And all that they give

Wildness is truthful
It’s the ancestral way
Of living in the open
Every single day
The seasons they matter
The breed and they know
The pain of being
Where respect has to grow

For all living beings
Who travel and play
Whose standards are high
At the end of the day
Whose sustainable lives
Operate too
Mindful ambition
All their life through

In the light
In the dark
Wherever they roam
They know in their hearts
Where is their home
Family is important
Respect it is earned
Dealing with hunters
Makes them concerned

The cruelty aspect
Which humans call sport
Wild creatures survive
Very much on pure thought
Unlike the hunter the barbarous child
Wicked in so many ways
Falsely wild

A tipple or two
Dutch courage all round
Too many twerps
Regalia bound
Breaking the law
Every time they ride out
Ready for war
For them it’s about

Chasing and killing
And maiming and they
Abuse saboteurs
Who are out there each day
Caring and saving the families of Fox
Of Hare and of Deer
That’s their way

Cub hunting is a vile nasty affair
A secret parade a meaningless air
It makes no sense at all
And it’s evil and bad
It’s terrible negative
And very sad

That grown men and women
Find time to be cruel
To imagine their ugliness
Each immoderate fool
So quick to violence
And falsity
Seeing wild foxes murdered
So deceitfully

They need to be locked up
Thrown in a cell
A bloody great fine
For these creatures of hell