I always knew, the people that wear fur,
With compassion you could not stir,
After all, any one who can skin,
An animal’s next of kin,
And than, wear that awful sin,
Anyone you have to tell it hurts them, really,
To loose their skin, in pain not freely,
Anyone like that, don’t think of others,
Or with compassion bothers,
Could kill a babe and mothers,
Someone like that be in a hearse,
Yell turn around, forgot my purse,
You know the type, the brute,
That always thinks she’s cute,
The sort that looks like puss and boot,
Even a momma cat would haul her kittens,
In her mouth or in her mittens,
A sinking trough of waters grave,
Their little lungs from drowning stave,
Not ask someone her purse to save,
Right next to her the bully swift,
With elbows might his weight would shift,
Never mind the lady and the babe,
To help her and her babe escape,
Would you expect that of a knave?
Never mind the panic that ensued,
Some still of others needs they cued,
Still some others prayed in desperation,
In heaven find their selfish station,
Brought on by panicky sensation,
The man that steered the hearse,
Not need his courage to rehearse,
He’s driven often by death door,
He’s seen it all before,
A hundred percent His score,
The lady stewardess,
Who clambered back in all that mess,
To check it all for sure,
Make sure that all endure,
Stragglers all to safety lure,
Different hearts and different souls,
All reached for their different goals,
Some, despite their own neck on the line,
Not help others would decline,
Those will do in heaven fine,
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Keep on fighting, not everybody is deaf.
Georg
Powerful compelling poem Jasmin!
Edwin
Truly, truly sad, my friend - for us all.
Ted