Giraffes appear to be the ladies target
\nCanned hunting farms have them on offer, they
\nAre hard to miss apparently this tall leaf eating soul
\nGunned down in a frenzy so some say
\nThis is what the bold ones are now doing
\nGoing out to Africa to bag
\nA beautiful wild creature
\nIt’s about eradication
\nViolence and devastation
\nThese new women apparently fly the flag<\/p>\n
Energise themselves it’s a kind of tonic
\nA vigorousness and outburst of desire
\nBellicose inflamed with such emotion
\nThey come in like a lion whose manes on fire
\nThey don’t need camouflage just jeans and a tea shirt
\nOff the truck no need to touch the ground
\nLooking through the telescopic rifle lens
\nThe stillness of the moment all around
\nPeacefulness and tranquility
\nNot a breath of air
\nA tender finger on the trigger
\nA Uneventful windless restful prayer<\/p>\n
The great beast takes it once twice
\nAnd falls forward
\nA living being lost without regard
\nLifeless breathless a martyr for existence
\nAnd hits the ground so very very hard
\nScuppered by the evil of the hunter
\nPole axed as the bullets tore into
\nThe precious flesh threshed by the flying implants
\nThat almost cut a passage deep and through<\/p>\n
Where had femininity now gone to
\nThe gentleness the virgin and the bride
\nMore so a dark frigidity
\nA cold and pitiful feeling
\nThat just erupted from her deep inside
\nThe light had been so powerful flushed with radiance
\nObscured now by the dead soul at her side
\nPosing with her rifle and a big smile on her lips
\nThe poor soul very blood stained
\nWas denied<\/p>\n
This trip had been so positive
\nThe great beast now lay still
\nShe was no sage nor oracle
\nBut she got the greatest thrill
\nFrom seeing a great animal
\nCrash down before her eyes
\nLost for all eternity
\nAnd prepared to realise<\/p>\n
This was really meaningful
\nAffirming to her, she
\nHad exaggerated nothing
\nBut the purest symphony
\nA clarity of thinking
\nHer most explicit thoughts
\nAn energy of boundless love
\nOf course minus the warts<\/p>\n
The voicelessness the aphony
\nWould not again be heard
\nUp there in the branches
\nNot a single word
\nWould pass alas this gentle soul
\nWould no more taste the sky
\nThe hunter paid her bounty
\nAnd the giraffe just had to die<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Giraffes appear to be the ladies target Canned hunting farms have them on offer, they Are hard to miss apparently this tall leaf eating soul Gunned down in a frenzy so some say This is what the bold ones are … Continue reading