Hunting Poems: 3/4
Nature, Hunting

From one to another

© Bronwyn Stewart

Please don't hurt me,
please don't kill me,
please don't harm me,
for what did I do?

I am sorry,
I don't know what I did wrong,
but surly you wouldn't be killing my kind,
for nothing.

I've seen you all,
eating leaves,
so what would be gained,
by killing me?

My children,
all are dead.

My father,
my mother,
went up in this unforgiving slaughter.

Would you still kill me,
if I looked you in the eyes and pleaded,
if I look at your blue eyes,
with my own blood shot yellow?

There's so little of my kind,
we're trying everything,
to make you see,
what true pain and despair we're in.

The wolves are dying,
and you're the ones killing,
even our foods are not filling.

I hope you aren't like those others,
that tack our pelts to their doors,
and keep our heads on the wall,
I hope you can help us.

From one pleading mammal to another,
your begging friend,
the dying wolf pack.

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