What goes on in a trappers mind ( my feeling is not much really apart from hate)

To lure and trap a wild soul
in its habitat
with food
to me is total evil
from someone that’s so crude
unthinking and uncaring
a total mind blocked sump
whose only thought is killing
a wicked peccant grump

who thought just where to leave
that dire contraption
hidden under leaves for best effect
hopeful he would catch a hungry
rabbit or a fox
not about to cunningly inspect

hunger drives a wild soul
to relax its once strong guard
and this is when the trapper
really no holds barred
sets the locomotion
and waits to hear the cry
as the steel jaws clamp down hard
on the victim who will die

imagine it, each inch you move
a cutting searing pain
but if you cannot get away
your life goes down the drain
perhaps you could leave your leg behind
and limp off but too late
you hear the shuffling
trapper with the growling gait

He looks down at you coldly
his grubby hands of hair
chewing some vile concoction
you wish you wasn’t there
but of course you know the next phase
and hope it will be swift
but this grotesque excuse for a man
is worse if you get my drift

He brings his left boot slowly
on top of my head
and crushes me into the earth
grinding oh this I dread
his soles crack my head open
and my warm blood starts to flow
but he just keep on grinding
till I pass out and I go

he hangs me on a hook
he’s banged into a tree
and tears my skin off in one piece
I think he’s set me free
to wander over rainbow bridge
and out beyond the stars
perhaps I’ll meet my ex girl friend
who last week went to Mars

the improbity of trapping
the lack of conscience thought
the deviousness within the heart
the skullduggary he’s bought
into, so immoral a reprobate, a crook
a really good for nothing
not worth a second look

what of retribution
these trappers imagine they
are doing god’s work
killing us
that is what some say
but of course we know its the industry
the awfulness of fur
for your hags and designers
who apparently concur

that it is to be our destiny
the only reason why
souls with fur were ever put upon this earth
and we
must succumb to evil murder
and welcome it for we
are purely sacrificial lambs
for the fashion industry

well we don’t see life like that
we are souls, in our own right
feeling thinking caring grieving
we too see the light
and all this rotten cruelty
exacted on us will
come back to you soon 3 fold
and may be a bitter pill

that you will have to swallow
all you fur clad sh**ts
who imagine that your own skin
is kind of shot to bits
and all your creams and potions
do nothing for you, and
wearing ours feels better
which I just don’t understand

and never will!